X-Men Forged: Lost Son
by Jason de L'Epee
Summary: Jason is now an X-Man, and after a harrowing first semester, the next semester throws everything its got at him. From rekindled rivalries to new threats from the shadows, this is all overshadowed by a mysterious figure doting upon Jason, as well as Jason finally finding love. How will Jason deal with the next several months? And will finally Jason find out his mysterious origins?
1. Prologue

**X-MEN FORGED: LOST SON**

 _By Jason de L'Epee_

FOREWARD: Welcome back! Thanks to the power of Microsoft Office 365 and my glorious iPad Pro—a match made in heaven…or hell depending on your outlook—I've never been this prolific. While I do have other projects I'm working on like _Mass Effect: Descent_ , this one and my original work is priority. Hope you've enjoyed how Jason "Alchemist" Downs has been doing, because it's only going to get bigger from here. This one is going to be the biggest of the books with a whopping twenty planned chapters, including a three-parter climax chapter, so I hope you're ready for this, because here we go!

DISCLAIMER: X-Men and all other Marvel characters are copywrited to Marvel Comics and Disney Studios. Chapter and scene scenarios are adapted from various X-Men mediums, including but not limited to _X-Men Evolution,_ the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the animated series of _Ultimate Spider-Man_ and the comic series _Ultimate X-Men._ Some characters also present may be borrowed from other fiction mediums. All characters are used without permission but for the purpose to entertain, not finance. All original characters belong to the creator of his fanfic, and the author would like it very much that you do not borrow them without permission, because odds are you will suck very badly at mimicking them. Think of the characters.

Enjoy book 3 out of 6, X-Men Forged: Lost Son!

 **PROLOGUE:**

* * *

 _St. Anthony's Hospital, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma – June 4_ _th_ _, 1994; 8:24 AM_

It was a typical day in one of the main hospitals in Oklahoma City, and much like its location in the largest city and capital of Oklahoma, it was no stranger to being constantly busy as the greater population concentration created an increased likelihood for accidents or mayhem, and the St. Anthony's Hospital was just the kind of facility needed to mediate such an unfortunate consequence of the city. Despite that, the nurses and doctors were no stranger to fatigue, particularly with the heat of summer coming in early thanks to the Southern shifts of the weather in June. Heatstroke was a common reason for many visits to the ER.

So when the ER receptionist heard someone approach, she didn't immediately look up. When she did, she was a little surprised to see that a doctor had approached the desk. She didn't recognize him from the normal staff of doctors, but then again, this was a large hospital. Hard to say who was here and who isn't anymore. "You have something for me?" she said casually.

The doctor, an older man whose mouth was framed by a thin goatee, and his hair streaked with grey, said remorsefully. "I'm afraid so…"

The tone was not lost on the receptionist. She could see he was holding something, and she stood up. Bundled in the doctor's arms was a sleeping baby. "Oh no, who's this?"

"I do not know," the doctor said. "I found him on the steps of the hospital. I fear he was abandoned."

The receptionist looked sad. "Why would anyone want to leave a little baby alone? He looks barely newborn!"

"I imagine so. I estimate he's only a couple days old."

The receptionist shook her head. "I wish the world was a better place, so that little ones like this aren't just thrown away by an uncaring mother."

The doctor looked like he was trying to keep it together. "It could be a number of reasons, but what's important now is that this child is examined and adopted. He deserves a better home than an orphanage."

"Don't they all?" The receptionist whipped out a series of papers. "Take him to the children's wing. They might be able to help you."

The doctor took the papers. "Thank you for your assistance."

"Anything for the little guy…"

The doctor took the papers and the baby to an elevator, keeping his eyes forward deliberately, avoiding eye contact. When he was in the elevator, he was thankful he was alone. He allowed a single tear to etch its way down his chiseled face. This child had suffered enough; it was his responsibility to make sure he was put in a good home, finally safe.

The door opened and he made his way to the children's wing. The receptionist had likely called ahead to prepare any pediatrician on the floor that could examine him and make sure he is healthy. They might even had information about adoptive services. When he entered the wing, there were two nurses waiting for him.

Striding forward, one nurse spoke up. "Thank you for bringing him to us. We'll get him taken care of. Dr. Pike is the pediatrician in charge right now, and he's already been paged."

"May I attend to the examination until he arrives?" the doctor asked.

"Of course, but I wouldn't do anything invasive until Dr. Pike arrives."

"I wouldn't dream of it. Lead the way."

The nurses took the child to the nursery, where the doctor soon saw other children were being kept. This hospital had full post-natal services where children are kept with the mother in the room, which meant that these children were also orphaned. He couldn't help these children, but he did breathe a silent prayer for their happiness. The nurses placed the sleeping baby on the cart and the doctor began taking vitals. The baby awoke and cried, unhappy about being awakened.

The nurses did their best to comfort the baby while the doctor performed basic vital checks. Soon enough, the attending pediatrician arrived, a younger doctor with black hair but the doctor could tell in his eyes that he was quite qualified and experienced in dealing with babies.

Dr. Pike did his own examinations, while the doctor shared his own observations, which Dr. Pike confirmed. "He seems a little lethargic, maybe dehydrated. Besides that, I don't see any real problems in this one. He's lucky; a round of fluids and he should be perfectly healthy."

"Thank you."

"Thank you for finding him. It could have been worse."

The doctor looked at the baby. "I suppose it could have been." He didn't mean to sound as sad as he was, but it's been quite a day already.

"Are you all right?" Dr. Pike asked. "I hope you're not getting too attached to him, unless you want to adopt."

The doctor looked up. "I'm afraid I can't. My work has me too occupied to properly take care of him, both me and—and my wife."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Dr. Pike said. "I'm practically married to my work, and I see children like this all the time."

"Can you see he gets taken care of? Family-wise I mean?"

Dr. Pike looked up. "Unfortunately, all of these babies here are about the same as this one. I can't spend my time helping one of them over all of them."

"Please…" the doctor said, looking down at the baby. "I know I ask for a lot, but…"

Dr. Pike crossed his arms. "Finding this kid really did something to you, did he?"

The doctor looked up but said nothing.

"I can tell you don't have experience with handling kids. Trust me, doctor. Do what I do long enough, and you get numb to it."

The doctor looked back at the child, and continued to say nothing.

Dr. Pike sighed. "I'll tell you what. There's been a couple that's been stopping by this place a lot; I know they're processing paperwork for adoption. Perhaps I can give the adoption service a call and see how they are doing with that and maybe put in a word for this one. I'll have to issue a clean bill of health first though."

The doctor sighed. "That will do."

"The kid should be thanking you. I'll be right back; I'll make the call."

The doctor was left alone with the child, and he looked down at him for a time. The child had drifted back to sleep, and the doctor felt like his heart was going to break. He was grateful to have found the child when he did; it certainly could have been a lot worse.

Sooner than the doctor expected, Dr. Pike returned. "I just contacted the agency. They said they'd give the couple a call and they'd look at him."

The doctor looked relieved. "Thank you."

Dr. Pike looked neutral. "So, Doctor…" Dr. Pike read the name tag. "Strange, wasn't it? Since you seem to have a thing for this kid, did you think of a name? I'm sure the hopeful parents would like one."

The doctor looked thoughtful for a second, and a name jumped out in his mind. "Jason."

Dr. Pike took the file and wrote the name on the file. "Seems fair. I'll write up the treatment for Jason."

"And I'll be on my way," Dr. Strange said. "I've done what I can for him. He's in your hands now."

Dr. Pike smiled. "The best hands in this hospital for him. Have a good one, Strange." Dr. Pike left.

Dr. Strange lingered over the child for a little bit. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you, Jason. You'll be someone special in this world, and I've made sure you'll be taken care of. Live well, young Jason. May the Vistani watch over you." With that well-wish given, Dr. Strange looked out the nursery window, saw no one, and then vanished in a cloud of red smoke.

XXXXXXXXXX

 _And so it begins. Kind of cryptic, wasn't it? Well, on't worry; we'll find out what this is all about soon enough. In the meantime, here's a preview for the next chapter._

 _Scott and Alex are taking some family bonding time in Hawaii, but their plans are washed away as a massive storm system sweeps Alex out to sea and Scott goes out to rescue him. Soon enough, the X-Men catch wind of their situation and stage a rescue, and Jason will have to face his biggest fear. Stay tuned for **Chapter 1: Poseidon.**_


	2. Chapter 1: Poseidon

**CHAPTER 1: POSEIDON  
**

 _Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – Monday, December 19_ _th_ _, 2011, 7:57 AM_

Jason Downs opened his eyes, seeing the familiar ceiling of his room and feeling the familiar air of it as well. Looking around, he espied his roommate, Piotr Rasputin still snoozing away under his blanket. Jason smiled at seeing his best friend, sleeping without a care in the world. _"It's about time he is sleeping and doesn't look like he's worried about anything. Took him long enough."_ He didn't quite have the best sleep himself, but it was sufficient. He had been having dreams for the past two days; nothing clear, just whispers, a lot like the ones he had before coming to the Institute. Jason was a mutant, much like everyone else at the Institute, and his power was the manipulation of matter and energy at an atomic level, rearranging the physical structure to whatever he pleased, or in the case of energy, redirecting it by manipulating the flow of electrons. He was the Alchemist as a result.

Jason sat up in his bed, and looked out the window, seeing a small snowfall drifting down over the Institute grounds, quite a serene view. He was quite thankful for the relative relaxation he had been able to get now that the semester was over. On top of that, just three days ago, he had faced down Magneto and pretty much destroyed his base, almost dying in the process. He never told anyone that he almost died; that was bad enough. Still, the events of three days ago catapulted him into joining the X-Men officially. On one hand, that was a gratifying feeling, but Logan was a little more on his case to make sure he attended training. Some things never change.

He sat up in bed and looked over at Piotr again. Piotr Rasputin was a newer member of the Institute, only being there a year, but he was one of the most experienced. He could change his flesh into a nigh-invincible metallic alloy that was as flexible as skin but as hard as diamonds. His metallic form gained him nearly a foot-and-a-half in height, and he was already a head taller than everyone, branding him the Colossus. Piotr himself had endured a particularly rough year. He went from basically a hostage of Magneto, a solemn student and being kidnapped again by Magneto. Jason was able to rescue him from his clutches, and the Asteroid M event had changed Piotr in a big way. The last few days, he had seen Piotr smile more, carry himself taller and be more energetic. It was a very welcome change. Piotr had confided in Jason that he was finally ready to move on from his guilt. He still had no idea where his family was hiding, but he figured he would find out as soon as he asked the Professor. After a humiliating defeat at the hands of a brash but skilled Alchemist, Magneto had disappeared as did Mystique. Jason doubted that he would bother Piotr and his family again.

Piotr stirred a bit, and Jason looked away out of habit. He didn't want to get caught staring like some creep, although Jason didn't mind looking at Piotr one bit. Jason tried very hard not to blush; lately he had been growing increasingly awkward around Piotr, and during his near death experience, he realized why. The problem is that he didn't know if Piotr felt the same. While he did find out Piotr was in fact gay—or rather just the fact he liked boys—earlier last year, thanks to a slip of the lip, that didn't mean that he actually had romantic feelings for him. As a matter of fact, Jason didn't realize he _himself_ was attracted to men, or in the very least Piotr, but that didn't mean much if it wasn't reciprocated. For all intents and purposes, Jason was just a really good friend and confidant to him. It depressed Jason a little, but he wanted what was best for Piotr, and if it wasn't him, then he wouldn't be mad.

Piotr stirred again and his eyes slowly opened. He looked around, and espied Jason sitting up, looking distracted. "Jason? You up?"

Jason looked at Piotr. "Yeah. You sleep well?"

Piotr sat up himself, wrapping the blankets around himself because the air was just a smidgen too cold getting up. He may have spent his winters in Siberia, but getting up from a snug and warm sleep to relatively colder air was never pleasant. "I did. What about you?"

Jason shrugged. "Sort of."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Jason smiled a bit. "Not really much to tell. It was the dream again."

Piotr nodded. Jason had told him about the dream he had yesterday, and that it was barely anything at all.

"I've had this dream ever since the deal with Magneto. I don't know if they're connected, but…" Jason shrugged. "I don't really know. It could also be me using that gem Magneto had. After all, I have been able to transmute without having to clap my hands since then too."

Piotr remembered that. In their first team exercise with Jason as their newest X-Man, Jason had accidentally transmuted something without clapping his hands. That was followed up by another visit with Dr. Strange, who reasoned that his exposure to the Emerald of Cytorrak had probably evolved his mutant DNA to be more effective with transmutations. Scott had also been exposed to the Emerald's power, but when he unleashed all of his power behind his optic blasts that night, the enhanced DNA relapsed and Scott was back to his normal levels of power. Dr. Strange reasoned that the same could happen, but Jason knew that unleashing his full power could be devastating to anything or anyone around him, so he didn't dare risk it for something so insignificant. "Perhaps you should talk to the Professor?"

"Maybe," Jason said. "But honestly I have no idea what to even say to him about it, especially after what the gem did to me. If there's anyone I should talk to about this, it's Dr. Strange, but right now I'm on leave from study with him until school starts again. He's doing something 'magical' for the world, I guess."

Piotr felt like his body temperature had regulated to the room, so he let the blankets fall. "Perhaps it is just a dream."

Jason shrugged. "Very well could be." Jason smiled. "Hell, maybe I'm just finally losing it." Jason purposely did a crazed laugh to punctuate it.

Piotr chuckled, and Jason realized that it was a very welcome sound. Before a few days ago, it was a very rare sound. After Piotr resolved to finally let things go, Piotr was happier period. It even made his heart flutter a little bit. Clearing his throat, Jason decided it was time to get up and get started with the day. "Well, maybe we should get up before it takes us two hours just to use the showers."

"Perhaps you are right," Piotr said.

Jason climbed out of bed, and quickly located an undershirt to wear. "We may have good heating in here, but sometimes it's not good enough. Hopefully it's a little warmer in the hallway."

Piotr agreed, gathering up essential toiletries for the shower. "Better hurry, comrade, or else I get first shower."

Jason laughed. "Oh, like hell you are!" Jason snatched up his toiletries and made a run for the door, with Piotr right at his heels. They both scrambled for the bathroom down the hall around the corner, enjoying this little race a little too much. When they rounded the corner, they skidded to a halt as they saw a red-haired woman, carrying her own set of toiletries into the room. Before she entered, she looked to see Jason and Piotr looking at her disbelievingly. The girl, Jean Grey, smiled. "Sorry, boys," she cooed and closed the door when she entered.

Jason and Piotr started slightly agape for several seconds. Finally, Jason pursed his lips. "She _so_ doesn't play fair…"

XXXXXXXXXX

 _8:47 AM_

The kitchen was already bustling with hungry students and teachers alike clambering for breakfast, and the chatter was an all-time high as the younger students were quite excited to spend a day in the snow, and with Christmas just around the corner, the holiday spirit was quite strong. The mansion wasn't quite Christmas-ready yet, but over this week, it would be. The month of December was quite a busy one this time around for the Institute, so holiday decorating was a little down the list. Still, that didn't seem to bother anyone any.

Jason and Piotr entered the room to find the room already packed. "Aw, crap," Jason said. "We'd better act fast or else the only food we get is licking it off the plates."

Piotr's face wrinkled up slightly at the suggestion.

The two dove right into the bustle, grabbing plates and silverware while attempting to grab what they could from a quickly dwindling supply of early morning edibles. Pretty much everyone was there, except for Scott Summers. He was in Hawaii after getting permission from Professor Xavier to spend the holidays with his newfound brother, Alex Masters. They had reunited just before the business with Magneto a few days ago. After saving the world from a falling Asteroid M, they deserved a break from X-Men business. Scott also saw it as a way to encourage Alex about the Institute.

Jason and Piotr quickly found their spots as the New Mutants were talking about their plans for the day. Meanwhile, Jean and the rest of the X-Men were at their own table talking about their own plans for the holidays. Kurt looked excited. "It's been too long since I've seen my parents. I've got so much to tell them…"

"It has been quite a year…" Storm said.

"You can say that again," Jason said, working on a slice of bacon.

"Like what are your plans anyway?" Kitty asked Jason.

Jason took a gulp before answering. "Well, since Christmas is this weekend basically, I thought about going back home for Christmas for the weekend and then come back."

"Did you tell your parents?" the Professor asked, taking a sip of coffee.

"Yeah, I spoke to them yesterday on the phone. I was actually thinking of asking Dr. Strange if I could use this…" Jason held up the Amulet of Agamotto that hung around his neck ever since Dr. Strange entrusted it to him. "…to go to my parents' house so flying fees wouldn't be a problem."

"It's hardly an inconvenience, Jason," the Professor said.

"Maybe," Jason said. "But it would be a lot faster. It takes about six hours to fly from here to there, and long flights and jet lag aren't exactly something I'd like to endure over Christmas, especially since I have a five-year-old sister who might wake me up at five in the morning."

The Professor smiled. "You make a fair point."

"I thought so," Jason smiled, washing down food with some milk.

Kurt looked at Jason's milk as he drank it. "Well, in the meantime, since school is out, we'd better make sure Herr Scar has plenty of milk to consume."

Jason laughed. "Laugh at it now, fuzzy elf, but as long as my bones can actually take a hit, I'll drink away."

Piotr couldn't help but agree. "In Siberia, we milked our own cows. It was not easy this time of year."

"I can imagine," Kurt said. "It's cold enough in South Germany where the Alps are; my family also has a farm and sometimes we had to call down the cows from the high pastures, sometimes in the winter. Wasn't fun, but we had to."

"Did you ever do that singing that can call them down?" Jason said.

Kurt looked confused. "What do you mean?"

Jason waved it off. "Sorry, it was something I saw on YouTube one day and I heard it was an Eastern European thing. Apparently there's some high pitched singing that one could do that kind of puts cows into some kind of trance and they come right down to you. I think it was called kulning."

Piotr looked at Jason. "I have heard of it; I think it is from Sweden."

"I think you're right." Jason drank another bit of his milk. "Gets my attention anyway…"

"Well, you are what you eat," Kurt said.

Jason held up a slice of bacon, looking directly at Kurt. "Did you just call me a pig?"

Piotr coughed a bit.

Jason decided to change the subject. "So who else has holiday plans?"

Kitty spoke up. "Well, I have to fly out back to Chicago tomorrow. Hanukkah is almost here and I promised my parents I'd come back this time. I missed out last year."

"Oh," Jason said sadly. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It was last year, no big deal. I _do_ want to go back this year."

Jason couldn't blame Kitty for that. Kitty's parents were both Jewish, and Hanukkah was a big deal for the Jewish people, as much as Christmas was a big deal for Gentiles, although for different reasons. Missing Christmas was just weird, although no one particularly judged anyone for that. "What about you, Jean?"

"My family is upstate," Jean said plainly. "It's only a few hours away so it wouldn't be a problem."

"I'm staying here," Rogue said. "I'm fine with that."

Piotr looked away. For a while he entertained the idea of staying here, but after the deal with Magneto, he thought about asking the Professor for a conjugal visit, for lack of a better term, with his family so that he could see them again. Now that he felt better about himself, he thought he could see them with a lot less worry.

Jason espied Piotr looking away, and he could guess what he was thinking about. Before the business with Magneto, Piotr was very depressed about the season because Christmas was a big deal for families, and being cut off from them was devastating. Now it was different, or so it seemed. Still, if there was someone who deserved a great Christmas, it was Piotr.

Jason was then distracted by the news playing on the overhead TV. "Hey, check it out!"

Everyone chimed into the news, where the news-anchor described a strange sighting in Manhattan.

 _"Reports have been coming of a strange sighting within central Manhattan where several holiday shoppers have reported seeing an 'angel' flying over the city. No one has been able to get a proper look at this 'angel,' but all could agree that it looked very much like a man with white wings soaring high above the streets. As of yet, there still hasn't been a clear sighting of him yet recorded…"_

"That's the third sighting so far…" Jason said. "I'm beginning to think it's no longer a hoax."

"Perhaps, but even Cerebro hasn't picked up anything. It could still be a ruse."

"Maybe," Jason said. The report shifted to the weather, and for the most part it seemed like it was going to be mainly uneventful across the country, except for Hawaii where the typhoon season was still underway, and the remnants of a tropical storm that wasn't expected to mature was threatening to hammer the islands, particularly Oahu where Honolulu was. "Uh, Jean? Isn't that were Scott is?"

Jean had also been watching the weather, and had thought about the same. "I don't think they'd be dumb enough to go out in bad weather. Alex might, but Scott?" Jean was about to say no, but she checked herself. "Well, let's just say that I hope that Scott would talk him out of it."

XXXXXXXXXX

 _Hawaii Coastline – 10:21 AM_

" _How did I get myself talked into this?"_ Scott thought to himself, sitting on the edge of the beach. His eyes was almost always fixed on the dark storm clouds that dominated the skies, while holding onto a laptop computer. Alex was somewhere out on the waters with his surfboard, which he just recently modded to keep a shielded micro-camera on it so it could give anyone watching a feed few could boast on the board.

" _Woohoo! Shame you're such a landlubber, bro!"_ came Alex's voice over the speaker. _"We're getting fifteen footers easy, maybe even twenty!"_

Scott didn't quite share Alex's enthusiasm; the incoming storm had been on his mind and he had hoped Alex wasn't stupid enough to tempt Mother Nature. Since he was sitting on a towel on a beach when he could be inside away from getting wet proved that wasn't the case.

" _How's the feed?"_ Alex asked.

"Clear on this end," Scott said, trying to keep the edge of nervousness off his voice. He was quite certain he had felt a few raindrops as he sat there. The wind was already gusting to about thirty miles an hour, and if the weather reports he had been monitoring were any indication, it was bound to get worse. "Alex, make this the last round. The storm is getting worse, and I'm not feeling good about it."

Alex shook his head on the feed. _"Spoken like a true landlubber. Let's do the math here, bro: big storms plus big ocean equals massive waves!"_

Scott was about to shake his head, when he noticed a particularly large swell of water forming on the sea.

Alex appeared to have noticed too. _"Like this one!"_ Scott watched him get on his feet swiftly in the feed, and he to smile to see his kid brother have the time of his life out on the water. He couldn't really begrudge his brother for being a _little_ reckless. After all, the urge to race in his car was always there when he took it out. A lack of open roads and the higher probability of a life-threatening accident was an excellent deterrent.

While it was difficult to see through the video feed, Alex was pushing his surfing skills to the limits as he shot through the waves like a bullet, weaving to and fro just ahead of the wave's quickly collapsing crest. Scott could hear him hooting and hollering without even listening to the feed; Alex was definitely feeling the thrill.

Suddenly, Alex's board shifted ever so slightly, but it was just enough for Alex to flip backwards into the water. Scott had never seen someone wipeout quite like that before, and he quickly looked up to if he was ok from where he was sitting, and did not see Alex at all. He couldn't even see the board over the dark grey seas.

"Alex?!" Scott exclaimed as he stood up, the computer forgotten on the towel. He didn't hear a response, and there was no sign of either him or his board. How could he have disappeared so quickly. Alex had bragged that he was a great swimmer, so where was he? "ALEX?!" Scott called out again, cupping his hands around his mouth.

No answer was once again the reply offered to Scott. Scott began to grow frantic; Alex couldn't have already drowned. It was too fast! Where was he? "ALEX?!" He called out again.

" _Scott?"_ crackled Alex's voice through the computer speakers.

Scott nearly jumped when he heard Alex answer, but he snapped out of it and ran for his computer. Scooping it up clumsily, he looked at the screen and saw a rather fatigued Alex holding onto his board. "Alex, you scared the hell out of me!"

Alex laughed, and Scott noted with slight alarm that it was rather tired-sounding. _"Yeah, sorry about that, bro. Chalk that one up for the outtake reel."_

Despite the nature of things, Scott had to stifle a laugh. "I suppose that will go for something." Scott looked back out to sea, and still couldn't see Alex anywhere. "Where are you? I can't even see you anymore?!"

Alex then looked sheepish, although Scott thought he heard a sense of anxiety in his voice. _"Uh, yeah, about that. Bro, I've got a little problemo."_

Now Scott began to feel anxious. "What is it?"

" _I'm caught on a riptide, and it's pulled me pretty far from the beach. You need to come get me…"_

Scott had heard of riptides, or rather rip currents, and what they often did. Inexperienced swimmers were in a lot of trouble with them, but a good swimmer had minimal danger as long as he kept a cool head. If Alex said was true, then the rip current was quite a big one. "Hold on, I'll get the Coast Guard on the horn and they should be able to find you."

Alex winced. _"Uh, actually, I was kind of hoping you'd come find me yourself? I really,_ really _, don't want to look like an idiot to the Coast Guard."_

Scott's cautious side screamed at him to call the Coast Guard, suggesting that Alex's pride was not nearly as important as his safety, but Scott was trained to deal with hazardous situations. Hell, if he could deal with the Danger Room, he could deal with a simple rescue, right? "Ok," Scott said, hoping he wasn't going to regret this. "There's a boat rental place very close by. Give me a few and I'll be right out!"

" _Yeah…,"_ Alex sighed. _"Mind hurrying?"_

Scott threw himself on his feet and took off running towards a boat rental dock. Thankfully, it was quite close by, but every second, Alex was drifting further out to sea. Scoot reached the door and quickly saw the closed sign. Scott normally wouldn't have advocated breaking and entry, but this was an emergency. Scott lifted his ruby quartz glasses, blasting away the doors literally with a look. Replacing his glasses, he quickly located a boat in the marina. He quickly untied the boat and quickly boarded it, and just as fast located the keys having been left in the ignition of the boat. Careless as that was, he was very thankful for that.

Scott switched the boat on and shot out of the dock as fast as he could. He needed to be quick; the storm was definitely getting worse. _"Next time, Alex, we're staying home,"_ he thought to himself. No time for lectures to an imaginary representation of his brother; his _real_ brother needed a rescuer and fast.

XXXXXXXXXX

The Professor was in his study, looking over the files of all the enrolled students at the Institute while the other teachers—except for Logan who was taking a much-needed road trip after the Asteroid M business—were watching the other students enjoy the snow. Most of the newer students, affectionally called the New Mutants by the more seasoned students here, were outside enjoying the snowy weather. They were quite a handful, very young and spirited, and sometimes a little destructive. It wasn't uncommon for at least one of them severely damaging something. Thankfully, they had a repair specialist in the ranks.

The Professor came upon the file of their newest member, Jason Downs, code-named Alchemist. He had enrolled just this August, and was already their newest X-Man. While the others in the New Mutants were quite capable of being X-Men themselves, none had quite shown the maturity to took to serve. Alchemist was another matter, having endured many trials from mentor and foe alike in just five months' time. Jason had risked it all fighting Magneto just a few days ago; they all thought that he had died when Scott and Alex had destroyed a falling Asteroid M, but Jason had surprised them all when he quite literally dropped in as if nothing had happened. Later that night, Jason was offered a seat among the X-Men for his valor, conviction and fortitude.

Jason once voiced his concerns that his former New Mutant teammates might be jealous of his promotion, but Jason apparently needn't have worried; apparently they didn't see him as defecting to a new team, but simply as him just moving on. While he no longer trained with him, he did come watch them train in the observation room. They were his team for a while; some bonds don't break.

Jason's promotion to the X-Men had increased the head-count to ten: Wolverine, Storm, Cyclops, Marvel Girl—Jean had finally picked a name for herself after Jason offhandedly said to Jean "You're a real marvel, girl" and it stuck—Rogue, Shadowcat, Nightcrawler, Colossus, Beast and finally Alchemist. Being on the X-Men also seemed to change Jason's overall outlook on things; he was less preoccupied, less somber and more radiant. As a matter of fact, even Piotr "Colossus" Rasputin was more joyful the last two days than the last year combined. While Jason was on Asteroid M, Jason had rescued Piotr from imprisonment and doubtlessly fought for Piotr's true freedom from Magneto. Jason was fiercely loyal to Piotr, and Piotr was extremely close to Jason. The Professor had them share a room since the beginning of the school year because he thought they'd bring the best out of each other. The Professor smiled; it does feel good to be right.

The Professor replaced the file back into the drawer and looked out the window. Jason had no idea what happened to Magneto after the events of Asteroid M, and no one that had escaped had even seen him leave. Truth being told, no one had seen Mystique depart as well. She had left the fight and was not seen since. He knew better than to think that she was gone; she was just out of view. Mystique was as slippery as a snake and just as elusive. Magneto was not to be taken down so easily as well; they were both still out there, he knew. It was only a matter of time before either of them revealed themselves.

XXXXXXXXXX

Scott was speeding through the waves as fast as he could, but the winds were picking up and the waters were choppy; he had to slow down considerably. Scott's gaze shot to and fro, but he could see no sign of Alex. "Alex!" he cried into the computer's microphone. "Can you see me?!"

Scott could see the anxiety growing in Alex's face. _"No, bro! I can hardly see the shore either! Where are you?"_

"I'm coming, Alex," he assured Alex, although he wasn't sure who needed the assurance more. "Can you fire up a flare so I can ping your position?"

" _I'll try,"_ Alex said. Scott could see he was still tired. Scott saw him climb up onto the board and balance himself on it, while holding on with one hand. With his other, he curled it into a fist and rose it up out of the view of the screen.

Scott immediately looked up as soon as his fist disappeared from the screen. Alex had the ability to fire concussive blasts from his hands, much like how Scott can fire optic blasts through his eyes, which earned him the name "Cyclops." Alex had also been given a name by Magneto a few days ago: Havoc. He quickly saw a beam of yellow light shoot up from the waves about thirty degrees to his left. "I see you! I'm on the way!" Scott whipped the boat around so his aim was right at the light source and pushed the engine to its limits. He shot forward for another fifteen seconds, and he still couldn't see Alex. "Alex, do another! I'm sure I'm close!"

Obediently Alex fired another one into the sky. "That's it!" Scott said, spotting the golden beam. "I'm getting closer! Just hold on!" Scott whirled the boat towards the light again and shot forward again. Another fifteen seconds and there was still no sign of Alex, and it was aggravating Scott. "Alex, I need one more. I keep losing your position!"

Alex was already breathing hard on the feeds. _"I'm wiped, man. I don't think I can; if I do, I think I'm going to g…der…"_

The feed was breaking up and growing staticky; the battery in Alex's onboard camera was getting low. Scott grew alarmed. "Alex! I'm losing your feed! Alex!" Alex didn't appear to hear. "Alex!" He still didn't respond; Alex actually looked close to falling asleep.

Scott warred with his options; he had to keep looking for Alex at this point, but with Alex's growing more and more fatigued, things were looking more and more hairy. Scott more or less promised Alex that he wasn't going to call for help, but what good would a promise do if Alex was going to die if he kept it? Scott espied the two-way radio on the dashboard of the boat. He made his decision immediately. He scooped up the receiver and dialed the emergency channel. "Mayday! Mayday! This is Scott Summers. I need immediate assistance one klick away from Nihaua Beach! Mayday!"

There was a lot of crackling of interference, but Scott could hear that someone was trying to reach him, quite possibly the Coast Guard that patrolled these waters from Pearl Harbor. _"…Summ…cast your coo…ates."_

"Hello?!" Scott called out over the radio. "Can anyone hear me?!"

There was more static, but even more degraded than before.

"Hello?!" Scott kept trying, but the signal dropped. "Damn it!" Scott cursed, nearly breaking the receiver against the dashboard. He checked his angered stupidity just in time, and he replaced the receiver and continued to ride further out to sea. He had just his found his brother; he wasn't going to lose him here again!

XXXXXXXXXX

 _3:07 PM EST_

Kitty was busy packing for her flight to Chicago tomorrow, feeling mixed about the whole thing. She loved her parents but her being a mutant was still an awkward conversation, but thankfully, it was getting easier. The day she discovered she was a mutant, her parents actually tried to keep her from going to school, but at the time, Kitty wanted nothing else but to be normal and pretend last night didn't happen. She still remembered the dream the previous night; she was flying over the city and when she reached her apex, she fell like a stone, and right before she hit the street, she woke up to find herself sprawled in their basement. She later discovered that she had phased through the bed in her sleep because the blankets were still stuck in the ceiling. School was another matter; she was bullied like usual, but she had run into another mutant: Lance Alvers, the school rebel, who had the power of seismic geomanipulation, which gave him the name "Avalanche."

Kitty had met Jean Grey at her school that night after a very bad day at track and field, a class she despised. She had retreated into the school auditorium and was hiding out on the stage where a stage set was being built. Jean had offered to help Kitty with her powers after demonstrating her telekinesis to her, and later revealing she had telepathy. A freaked out Kitty had run from her, a mistake that still irritated Kitty to this day, and it was over a year ago. She ran into Lance who had offered to help her control her powers by owning them, and Lance did help her do that…but to her regret, she had phased both her and Lance into the principal's office. Jean and Kitty's parents had intercepted her in the office, and an angered Lance tried to bring the whole school down on them. It was a close call, but Kitty was able to phase her parents and Jean out of the rubble, where Professor Xavier was waiting. After seeing what Lance really was and that Jean and the Professor were really here to help her, she decided to join the X-Men at the Institute, becoming "Shadowcat."

Her parents had warmed up to her mutant abilities over the last year, and she felt very loved by her parents, awkwardness not withstanding, although she never doubted it. It was just the growing pains while learning about her mutation that was the main thing. She had missed last year's Hanukkah because it was during the school year, but this year was different; it started tomorrow night and she would definitely be with family this time.

Her cellphone rung while she was placing her favorite purple stuffed dragon, Lockheed, into a part of the suitcase. Looking at it, she didn't recognize the number, although it was local. Picking up her phone, she answered it. "Hello?"

" _How're you doing, Pretty Kitty?"_

Kitty frowned; it was Lance. Lance was a member of the Brotherhood of Mutants. At school, they were just jerks; on missions, they were fierce rivals of the X-Men, and they had crossed paths multiple times. Ever since they first met, Lance had an odd fascination with Kitty, and Kitty sensed that Lance liked her although he wouldn't properly admit it. "What is it, Lance?"

" _Hey,"_ Lance said, detecting how unhappy Kitty was. _"You're still not sore about the whole thing with Magneto, are ya?"_

"You mean when your boss wanted to kidnap us all and basically turn us all into all-powerful zombies? Jason told us about the whole thing."

Kitty could hear a slight echo of scorn in Lance's voice. _"I knew he would; he kind of ruined it for all of us."_

"Who's 'us'?"

Lance's fiery temper almost made him snap back, but he showed uncharacteristic restraint. _"Never mind. Listen, Kitty, I didn't call to fight."_

That more friendly tone Lance was making threw Kitty. Normally, Lance had a rebellious attitude and his tone was more sarcastic and aloof. "Then why did you call?"

Lance didn't respond immediately, and Kitty sensed that what he was going to say was uncomfortable for him. _"See, I was really wondering if…"_ Another pregnant pause. _"If you wanted to hang out at the mall today…"_

All of Kitty's mental processes suddenly stopped. Did Lance just…?

" _Hello?"_

Kitty was able to reboot her brain just coherently enough to respond. "Oh, sorry about that, Lance. I kind of didn't realize what I heard…" Kitty was just about ready to eat her foot with crow sauce for that remark. "I-I mean, are you asking me out?"

The awkwardness seemed to focus back on Lance, who was also slow to respond. He snapped out of it, and Kitty with a bit of dismay heard his aloofness try to come back. _"Hey, if you're just going to make fun of me—"_

"No-no-no!" Kitty exclaimed. "It's nothing like that I promise!" Kitty then looked discombobulated at herself. _"Why am I trying to justify myself like were dating or something?"_ she thought. Recomposing herself, she said more calmly. "It's just I never thought you would…or even thought about it."

" _Well…"_ Lance said. Kitty sensed that this was probably something Lance _hadn't_ thought about himself and this was something more spontaneous, and he did it before he could convince himself not to. _"…you know what, you can just say no if you don't want to…"_

"No, it's not that! I'm just—" Kitty nearly slapped herself in the head. There she went again!

"Hey, Kitty!"

Kitty looked at the source of the new voice, and her eyes nearly fell out of her head. Standing just inside the room was Kurt Wagner, the lovable blue fuzzball that could teleport at will, occasionally known on the field as "Nightcrawler" or "The Incredible Nightcrawler" depending on whom one asked. Kitty realized what she was doing and spoke into the phone. "Uh…can I call you back about this, Lance? I promise I will."

" _What's going—"_

Kitty hung up, knowing that she will have to explain this to Lance at some point, although looking at Kurt, she was unsure how. "What did you do to yourself?"

Kurt strutted into the room. Sure enough, his usual lithe form was exchanged for a rather muscular version of himself. He now had bulging biceps, prodigious pectorals and—Kitty tried not to count—but a set of eight abdominal muscles like bread loaves sitting on his stomach. His massive form was barely contained by a dark red sleeveless shirt. Even his khakis were having a hard time keeping his thick thighs contained. Kitty hoped to Jehovah that he wouldn't turn around.

Kurt flexed rather pretentiously. "Mm, I've been working out," he said, dramatically lowering his pitch to sound big. "What do you think?"

Two seconds into Kurt's showmanship, his image flickered like a television changing the channels, and his normal form returned, his clothes more appropriate to his body-type and weather situation. Kurt noticed when Kitty bit her lip to keep from laughing and he looked down at himself. "Aw, man!" Kurt sullenly skulked out of the room.

"You really shouldn't be playing with your image inducer, Kurt!" Kitty called out after him. Now that the distraction was gone, she looked at the phone she put to her side. The awkward conversation was still fresh in her mind, and she felt bad about it. She thought about calling Lance back up and accepting his invitation. She had nothing to do until tomorrow anyway, so it's not like she'd be late for anything. Then again, how would the others feel if she was hanging with one of the Brotherhood boys? What would the Professor say?

A part of her chided her timidity, saying that it was her life and that no one had any business telling her whom to hang out with, and she was old enough to make her own decisions. Another part of her cautioned her to not trust Lance too much; Lance was a rebel—a part of Lance that Kitty did feel attracted towards to her shame—and a scoundrel, a regular Han Solo in some regards, and that was the part that made this all the harder. Sighing to herself, she decided one time wouldn't hurt. She picked up the phone and pressed redial.

Meanwhile, Kurt was fiddling with his image inducer that he wore on his left wrist, trying to figure out why the hologram faded away like it did. As he did, another hologram cocooned his form without him realizing it as he walked down the hallway. One who _did_ notice was Piotr, who was going back to his room for some drawing when he popped out of an adjacent hallway and saw a distracted Kurt…swollen up like a dirigible and practically jiggling his way down the hallway with each step. Piotr looked really confused when a blue-furred blobby Kurt that was even _bigger_ than the Blob waddled his way away.

Piotr looked a little disgusted. "Comrade, I am thinking you need diet," he said to himself quietly.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jason and Jean were in the kitchen still, working on a late afternoon snack of Christmas cookies and eggnog, mildly watching the TV. Everyone else was either around the Institute or outside enjoying the snow. "I have to admit," Jason said, taking a sip of eggnog. "I could get used to drinking this."

Jean smiled. "I wouldn't get too attached to that. You'll get sick."

"My mom said the same thing," Jason said, smiling.

"Well, if she and I agree on something, maybe that must be right."

Jason merely looked at Jean.

Jean smiled. "Don't say it, Jason."

"I didn't think I had to; you know you don't."

Jean took a sip of her own eggnog. "It's just one of the perks being me."

Jason laughed. "Maybe you're right."

"Oh, I know I am." Jean sobered up a bit, seeing Jason smile a bit. "You know, Jason, these past couple of days, I've seen a real change in you."

Jason tried not to blush. "Yeah, I know. I forgot to shave."

Jean backhanded Jason's arm softly, but Jason hammed it up with the reaction. "Ow, I'm delicate…"

"Seriously though, this is what I mean. You're just better humored overall lately. It's nice…"

Jason really did blush a bit this time. "Yeah. I just feel better about things, like I finally got to deal with what I've been needing to deal with for the last few months. The business with Magneto was ironically what I needed, I guess."

"I suppose you're right," Jean said, taking a bite of a cookie. Swallowing it, she added. "How do you feel otherwise?"

"Well, my brain still seems to be holding out regardless."

Jean sobered up a bit. Jason had regular visits to the Neurological Institute in New York because of his unconfirmed prognosis of Charcot's Syndrome, a sclerotic disorder that had a scary resemblance to amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, also known as Lou Gehrig's disease. Jason had suffered the disorder after receiving significant cranial trauma after being caught inside his parents' car inside a tornado, which had also paralyzed his father from the chest down. The impact causes a number of small hemorrhages in the right side of his brain that added pressure to the brain, creating the risk of future neuropathies and gradual loss of muscle control. Surgery and a shunt in his brain had dealt with the majority of the bleeds as well as the added pressure, but many bleeds were too small to detect or too deep in the white matter to find. It was far too risky to try to look, so they were let be and Jason was monitored at the Institute here and the doctors'.

Jean sighed. "Well, that's good to hear."

"It's kind of the only _real_ damper on anything that I have. I'll take what I can get if it means I'm not so much of an asshole."

"Well, that's good to hear."

"I mean it, though…"

"I know you do, Jason," Jean said. "And we are happy with how far you've come."

Jason smiled. "Thanks, Jean…"

By this time, the weather report was back on the TV and both watched it with mixed interest, but both did tune in when Hawaii's report of the strengthening storm. The weatherman was urging people to stay off of the beaches as the tropical storm had unexpectedly strengthened, promising winds of sixty miles an hour now, just shy of hurricane strength.

Jason side-eyed Jean, who was starting to look a little worried. "Maybe we should give Scott and Alex a call to see if they're ok?"

"I think you're right."

While Jason and Jean were watching the weather, Kurt—having shed his plus-size hologram—had walked in for a snack and had saw Jason and Jean watching the weather. He saw the report himself and asked. "Hey, isn't that where Scott is?"

"Yeah," Jason said, not turning to Kurt. "We're both kind of hoping that Scott and Alex weren't dumb enough to go out during a storm. I'd like to think I'm a good reason not to—" Jason had turned to address Kurt properly, and nearly leaped out of his seat in surprise. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Jean, startled at Jason's outcry, turned and saw Kurt, whose head was now three times it's normal size on top of a normal-sized body. Jean couldn't help but scream in surprise as well.

Kurt was taken aback by their reactions. They looked at him like turned pink. "What is it?! Why are you yelling?"

Jason had gotten up from his chair and sidled away from Kurt's massive head. "Kurt, did you screw up your inducer again?"

Kurt's massive eyes blinked. "Why?"

"It's either that, or am I going to find a giant peach outside?!"

Jean looked for something that would do for a mirror, and located a reflective metal pot. Snatching it up with her telekinesis, she held it up so Kurt could see himself. "Just look at yourself."

Kurt looked at his reflection and saw what was wrong immediately. "What in the—" Kurt then looked sullen, which was quite magnified on his large head. "I didn't mess with it that much!" Kurt turned and left the room, appetite gone.

Jason and Jean watched him go, and nearly laughed when Kurt still ducked to get out of the room despite the top part of the head was just light imagery. Jason leaned on the window ledge. "I wonder what he was doing to make that glitch happen…"

Jean looked at Jason. "Do you really want to know?"

Jason shook his head. "No."

XXXXXXXXXX

Scott was growing desperate. The feed with Alex was shaky, but Scott could tell that he was still hanging on, but he was definitely growing tired. He had been subjected to the waves for over an hour now, and it was finally getting to him. Scott tried again with the radio to call for help, and was having a hard time getting a Coast Guard ship to hear him. "This is Scott Summers! I'm three klicks north of Finn Ridge Point! I need immediate assistance! I'm searching for my brother!"

" _Scott Summers, confirm position…re…"_ The channel was dominated by static. This storm seemed to block everything coming in.

"Hello?!" Scott shouted over the rain and wind. "Are you there?!"

" _Scott?"_ drifted in Alex's voice.

Scott looked over at Alex to see him looking earnest. "I think I have one more in me. Look out for it…"

Scott could definitely tell that this last one had to count. "Ok, I'm looking for it."

Alex shakily raised his fist to fire one last blast, and Scott's gaze shot around to search for the golden blast. Quickly, he saw it, and saw that it was quite close. "I saw it! You're very close! I'm on the way!"

Scott pushed the throttle as far as he could and the boat shot towards Alex.

Suddenly, Scott heard Alex cry out, and looked at the feeds. Instead of seeing Alex, he saw an underwater view and his heart froze. Alex's surfboard flipped over and sent him into the water, and he was nowhere in view. "Alex!" Scott called out, but he knew it was unlikely he heard him. "Alex, no!"

Scott arrived in the area where he thought he saw Alex's blast originate from, and he quickly saw an upside-down surfboard being thrashed by the waves. It was certainly Alex's, and he was nowhere in sight, causing Scott's heart to sink like a stone. "Alex…"

Before he could even fathom the worst, a massive wave crested to his port side and washed over the boat. Scott had never felt the power of a wave before, but it was like being slapped by concrete. It almost swept him over the side. Recovering, he coughed up the water he accidentally inhaled during the wave. The wave did the trick though; he snapped out of his stupor and he knew he couldn't give up now.

"Alex!" he yelled over and over, and honked the horn as loud as he could. If Alex was close, he had to have heard something. "Alex!" Each yell was louder and louder, threatening to rip apart his vocal accords with each one. Scott looked around, and still couldn't see Alex. He was beginning to wonder if Alex had indeed drowned.

"Scott?" came a weak cry from behind him.

Scott spun around, just in time to see a hand grab at the boat's siding. Scott practically leaped at the hand, and just in time as it lost its grip. Scott's arm shot out and grabbed the arm, and could see Alex's head just barely staying above water. "I got you!" Scott said, and he pulled with all of his might to get Alex over the side and onto the boat. Combining Alex's weight and the strength of the water trying to rip them apart, Scott had to throw his own weight into pulling Alex out of the water. Finally, Alex was out and in the boat.

Alex was barely awake, but still breathing. "Thanks, bro…"

"I was starting to lose hope," Scott said, relieved. "When I saw your surfboard…"

Alex chuckled, although it was more like coughing with all of the water that he accidentally inhaled. "Well, I got tired of waiting for you to come find me…"

Scott smiled. "We got to stick together, right?" Scott looked around and saw a pair of life jackets tied to the side of the boat. He undid the ropes and quickly got one on Alex. "We're not out of the woods yet, so let's wear these so we won't drown."

"Just get eaten?" Alex said.

"Well, if you have that humor, I think you'll be all right." Scott was still tired from both pulling Alex on board and the relief which took the strength out of him for a while. "So much for a relaxing holiday week, huh?"

"What?" Alex said, still breathing hard. "You're not having fun?"

Scott was about to laugh, but seeing a massive swell of water tower over them. "Hang on!" Scott said, and the wave smashed against the boat, drenching them and nearly capsizing them. Coughing, Scott stood up. "We need to get out of here. Hang on!" Scott ran for the wheel and made the boat turn around to head back.

Alex sighed as he hung on. "You don't have to tell me twice…"

XXXXXXXXXX

Back at the Institute, Jean and Henry McCoy were watching the a few of the New Mutants having a snowball fight while enjoying some hot chocolate. Henry McCoy, often called "Hank," was one of the teachers here at the Institute. His mutation was far more evident, much like Kurt's. He was covered with blue fur and had a distinct ape-like appearance, which gave him amazing agility and strength. Coupled with an already brilliant-mind, "Beast" was a valuable asset to the Institute.

Towards their right was a lone mutant who was trying to stay low as the opposing team was keen on taking him down with snowballs. Bobby Drake was the oldest of the New Mutants, freshly sixteen,, and rather a bright kid, when he wasn't so carefree that is. Keeping his head low, he used his chilling powers to form a snowball on command. Bobby possessed cryokinesis, manipulating the very air to chill to whatever temperature he desired and be able to create frigid blasts, earning him the name "Iceman."

He was about to hurl the snowball, but quickly ducked as a blast of molten magma and a blast of electricity nearly took off his head, although it did obliterate his snow fort. Recovering, he saw Amara "Magma" Crestmere and Ray "Berserker" Carter, looking rather smug with a nearby Jubilation "Jubilee" Lee warming up her pyrotechnic powers. Thinking quickly, Bobby shot out his hands to unleash a frigid blast of pure ice. Everyone scattered as a jagged ice-formation formed where they were just at. Amara retaliated with a ball of magma, steaming the winter air instantly.

Mr. McCoy could only shake his head as the New Mutants abandoned the snowball fight for a battle royale with their powers. "People, people! That is _not_ how you have a snowball fight!" Handing over his mug to Jean, he took the field, narrowly dodging a frigid blast from Bobby. " _This_ is how you have a snowball fight." With his two ape-like feet, he scooped up a massive snowball and hurled it at Bobby, who took it right in the chest. The other New Mutants started to get a little nervous, and quickly scooped up their own snowballs to defend themselves.

While Jean was quite amused by the spectacle, her amusement evaporated when a serious-looking Jason stepped out of the Institute and look squarely at Jean. "Jean," he began. "You need to follow me to the lounge."

Jean could sense that Jason was gravely concerned, and was half-tempted to take a look inside his mind to see, but Jason was very sensitive about people entering his mind uninvited. "What's wrong?"

"Just come with me. You really need to see this."

Jean placed Mr. McCoy's mug on a nearby rail, and quickly followed Jason inside. Jason was very brisk with his walk, and Jean had to keep up. The further they went, the more nervous Jean was becoming. Finally, they arrived at the lounge and found Ororo and the Professor watching the news, and Jean's heart sank. She knew what was coming.

" _Tropical Storm Wu had grown considerably in strength in just the last twelve hours, and the Coast Guard and Harbor Patrol are stretched too thin for the rescues. As of right now, we've received reports that one Coast Guard unit is on the search for two teens that were swept into the storm: Alex Masters and Scott Summers…"_

Jean held a hand over her mouth as her worst fears were realized. Jason looked sadly at Jean, wishing he knew what to say to console her.

The Professor knew exactly what to do. "Storm, prepare the X-Jet." As Ororo got up and made her way out, the Professor turned his wheelchair around to face Jason and Jean. "Jason, find Piotr and tell him to suit up and meet us in the hanger for immediate takeoff."

Jason nodded. "At once!" Jason turned around and took off down the hall, destined for his room. The Professor turned to Jean. "Jean, suit up. We need to leave immediately."

Jean rallied her senses to the situation. "I will." Jean didn't give the Professor another word; she knew that he would have a few words with her about the gravity of the situation, but he would have to wait until they were in the air. There was no time to lose.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was ten minutes—too long for Jean's nerves—later when the Professor, Marvel Girl, Storm, Alchemist and Colossus gathered in the hanger bay. Storm was already in the Blackbird preparing it for takeoff as the Professor met with the three X-Men.

"Our mission is clear: we find Scott and Alex, recover them and return as quickly as possible. I realize that this mission is more personal on a number of levels, but we must keep clear heads. May I count on all of you to do that?"

All three chorused, "Yes, Professor."

"Good. Everybody on board. It's a long flight and we need to go full speed if we have the best chance. Good luck, X-Men. Dismissed."

The X-Men boarded the Blackbird first, with the Professor following close behind on the lift mechanism. Everyone quickly buckled themselves into their seats while the Professor took the pilot's seat as it lowered itself into the floor to make room for his wheelchair. Once's the locks latched into the wheelchair. The Professor guided the Blackbird to the runway.

"Opening the hanger doors," Storm said in the copilot's seat, as the hanger doors on the far side slid open, revealing a cascading waterfall on the other side.

The Professor wordlessly pushed the accelerator forward and the Blackbird shot forwards and through the waterfall. Once out, the Blackbird shot skywards and drifted westwards, locking in on the coordinates of where the last time the boys were heard from.

Alchemist thought about his first mission with the X-Men, which ended up being a rescue mission. Scott and Alex were caught out in the middle of a tropical storm while out at sea. Alchemist, with growing nervousness, realized what he had just signed up for: he was going into the heart of a violent windstorm on open water. There were very few things in the world that was that far up shit creek, and for Alchemist himself, it was all the way up to the source.

"Jason?"

Alchemist turned to his friend, Colossus, who was sitting next to him. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm ok. Just hoping that we aren't too late."

Colossus nodded, signifying he understood.

Alchemist dropped his voice to a barely audible whisper. "Hawaii is nearly five-thousand miles away, and this jet only travels a little above Mach 3. That's three times the speed of sound, Peter…"

Colossus' mind wasn't quite getting what Alchemist was inferring.

Alchemist reiterated. "If I did the math right, it means that it will still take over two hours to get there. That's a lot of time for shit to hit the fan."

Colossus finally saw what Alchemist was talking about. Despite their best efforts, it would still take a considerable amount of time to reach them. Colossus decided to reassure the more practical Alchemist. "Scott is also X-Man; he can keep himself safe until we are getting there."

Alchemist relaxed a bit. "I know; I just couldn't help but see the numbers."

Colossus put a hand on Alchemist's shoulder. "Focus on mission, nothing else."

Alchemist nodded. "Yeah, you're right."

Colossus smiled, but then remembered that Alchemist had a leeriness of storms, and they were flying right into one in mere hours. "Are you ok?"

Alchemist knew Colossus well enough to know what he was asking about, and nodded. "I will be. We won't be there for long anyway. We'll be in and out, and I think I can deal with that."

"Ok," Colossus said.

Alchemist knew he was more reassuring himself than he was Colossus, but if he could talk himself into doing this so Scott and Alex wouldn't have to deal with what he endured this past April, then he thought he'd be ok. He only hoped Scott and Alex were.

XXXXXXXXXX

Scott was pushing the boat to its absolute limits trying to get them to safety. Alex was trying his best to stay awake, and was likely borderline hypothermic. While the temperature was hardly cold in Hawaii, even in December, Alex was in the water for a good hour, and was still clad in his surfing suit which was still soaking wet. The storm had brought in frigid winds along with sheets of rain, making it impossible to stay dry. Even Scott was dealing with chills, but he was determined to fight it out until they made it home.

The waters were so churned by the storm that each swell was like a hill, and Scott had to really fight to push the motorboat over each one. At one point, the wave crested while they were still on top of it and they practically dropped straight down in front of it as it began to tower over them. Scott floored it and was able to just clear the wave.

Suddenly, Scott heard a peculiar clicking from the engine. Alerted, he looked at the dashboard at the numerous gauges, and his eyes caught the gas tank gauge. The needle was squarely on the E. "Oh, no…" Scott breathed. The boat began to slow until the engine completely died, and they drifted to a stop.

Alex had heard something sputtering and looked around. "Was that a chopper?" Alex said.

"I wish it was," Scott said. "We just ran out of gas. Can you see if you can find a gas tank?"

"Sure," Alex got to his feet and started lifting the chair seats to scour the compartments.

Scott looked at Alex for a bit, hoping that Alex would be successful. When he turned back forward, his eyes nearly fell out of his head. A thirty-foot swell was bearing down upon them. Something that big would surely obliterate the boat. Scott took off his glasses and opened his eyes. A searing optic blast cut through the wave like a hot knife to butter, splitting the wave right down the middle, allowing it to crash to their sides and not on top of them.

Scott closed his eyes and replaced his glasses. Alex was not aware of what happened; his head was still deep in the compartments trying to locate a gas tank that could help them. Scott was trying to keep the boat from rocking too much by sticking to the high side of the boat, but was growing alarmed as the swells were getting larger and more intense. They must be very close to the core of the storm if it was this bad, and Scott knew enough about storms that if one was too close to the core, calamity was only a gust away.

"Found one!" Alex exclaimed as he pulled out a red plastic tank with gasoline slurping around inside.

Scott turned around to see Alex, and saw a forty-foot swell form right on the aft side, threatening to tip them over. "Hang on!" Scott exclaimed.

The swell swept up the boat and as it crested, it crashed right down on top of the boat. Scott and Alex were swept off of the boat as the boat capsized. Alex managed to grab onto a crate that broke free of the boat and hung onto it, looking around. He couldn't see Scott. "Scott! Where are you? Scott!"

Scott's head popped up from the water, only afloat thanks to the life jacket he was wearing. Scott knew how to swim, but the waters were so turbulent that it was difficult. Alex thankfully was experienced; when he saw his brother struggling, he pulled the crate towards Scott. "Scott! Grab onto this!"

Scott was able to grab onto the crate while Alex held onto the other side of it. "Thanks…"

"Hey, glad I got to return the favor…"

Both looked at the boat, just in time to see it sink beneath the waves. Scott stared at where it was moments ago. "That's not good."

Alex sighed, and had to laugh. "You know, you kind of stink at rescues…"

Scott looked at Alex. "Really? What about your big storms equals massive breakers line? This big enough for you?"

As if Poseidon himself was emphasizing Scott's point, a big swell swept over them. Both coughed as the waters washed over them and their heads poked back above the surface. Alex said. "Yeah, you got me there, bro…" Sighing tiredly, he continued. "It figures, you know?"

"What?" Scott asked, finding the shift in tone strange.

"After all this time, we finally find each other…and then we are stuck out here when we're finally getting to know each other…"

"Hey!" Scott said harshly. "Knock off the 'before we die' speech; we'll get out of this!"

Alex smiled. "I know, bro, but I got to say this. I've been thinking of changing my last name to Summers again now that I found you. Haven't told my parents yet, but I figured they'd be keen on the idea after meeting you."

Scott smiled. Alex was just trying to be honest in this situation. "Well, let's get out of this mess first. Finishing the adventure first, then the paperwork…"

"Our private Poseidon Adventure?" Alex said.

"Well, at least this time, we're not stuck on a sinking cruise ship. Besides, this is a lot better for us in the open. A helicopter could show up any minute to save us."

A searchlight suddenly beamed over them, highlighting them in a white halo. Looking up to see the source, they then looked at each other and nearly laughed. "Damn, bro, you're good…" Alex said. "Are you psychic too?"

Sure enough, a rescue chopper from Harbor Patrol was able to track them down. While they had been searching for them, the pilot had seen Scott's optic blast from afar when Scott split the wave to keep it from demolishing the boat. The chopper drifted over them until it was directly overhead. After informing a nearby Coast Guard vessel that they located the missing party, a rescuer slid the door open and jump into the water, all the while tethered to a wench inside the chopper. The rescuer swam to the pair. "I can only take one of you at a time, so you'd better choose between you who goes first right now."

Scott immediately answered. "Take him first; he's been in the water the longest and needs medical attention."

Alex looked incredulous at Scott. "But—"

Scott cut him off. "Big brother rule, you have to do as I say!" He looked at the rescuer. "Take him!"

The rescuer nodded and worked on securing Alex. Alex looked apprehensive. "Are you going to be ok?"

"It's only going to be a few minutes," Scott said. "I'll be fine. You are more important right now."

"Hang on, son…" the rescuer said, and he motioned to the chopper to reel them in. The wench inside the chopper began to spin and the rope grew taut as they began to rise towards the helicopter. Scott watched them go, encouraged. They were going to be ok.

Disaster struck in the form of a lightning bolt striking the tail rotor, and the rotor quickly became engulfed in flame and smoke. The helicopter began to lurch and struggle to keep altitude. The pilot began calling for evac as the rotor continued to fail. Scott suddenly saw a new danger: at this point, if the helicopter fell, it would fall right on top of all of them, crushing them. Alex and the tethered rescuer held on and the helicopter whipped them about as it struggled, and suddenly, it lurched and began to fall. Alex and their rescuer hit the water, and Scott acted without thinking. He raised his glasses off of his eyes and aimed a small optic blast at the side of the helicopter. The blast was enough to push the helicopter away. When it struck the water, it was thirty feet away from its original position. Scott saw two other rescue personnel safely get out of the helicopter before it began to sink into the water.

Paling suddenly, Scott remembered who was still attached to the helicopter. Alex and the rescuer were still recovering from the splashdown and had no idea that the helicopter was about to pull them down with it. Scott quickly saw the rope floating on the water, and saw it was quickly disappearing under the water, threatening to grow taut. Scott aimed a very precise optic bast at the rope, mere inches away from the back of the rescuer, severing the rope before it could pull them under.

The flash of red light attracted the attention of the rescuer however. Whipping his head around, he saw Scott replace his glasses and had a strange look on his face underneath his helmet. Before he could say anything, the pilot and copilot resurfaced and were making their way towards them. Reaching Scott, they grabbed a hold of Scott so he didn't drift away from them. The rescuer with Alex snapped out of his bewilderment and pulled Alex towards the three. They finally were able to tether themselves together to make a living raft.

"So much for that," Alex said, looking very tired.

"We're not lost yet, son," the pilot said. He got one hand free to push a device on his vest. Scott saw a small red flashing light. "We're outfitted with GPS tracking in case of an emergency."

"And this definitely quantifies as one," Scott said.

"There's a Coast Guard vessel three clicks away, so we just need to hang on in the meantime."

"No arguing there," Alex said.

"Well, since we have the time to kill," the rescuer began. "Guess I owe you a thank you." He was looking at Scott.

Scott looked strangely at the rescuer.

"If you're worried that I'm going to turn you in or something, don't. After thinking about it, I remember that we were still tied to the chopper. If you didn't save us just now with those eyes of yours, your brother and me would be dead. Can't really hate you for that."

Scott sighed in relief. He knew he had risked mutant exposure by doing what he did, but there was no choice in the situation. Had they more time, doubtless the rescuer would have cut them loose, but there were only seconds to make a decision. "Well," Scott said. "We can exchange thanks once we get out of there. Although can you not mention the fact that I'm a mutant to anyone? Kind of trying to stay low here."

"I can't blame you for that," the rescuer said. "I have a brother who is gay and my parents weren't too fond of the idea. He was later thrown out of the house and I basically walked out myself. I understand the need to keep things quiet until you're ready."

"Thanks," Scott said.

"Hope those Coast Guard guys hurry up," Alex said. "I'm wiped…"

XXXXXXXXXX

The Blackbird was well over the Pacific Ocean by this time and was heading straight for the Hawaiian Islands at over Mach 3. The X-Men were wasting little time to reach Scott and Alex. Storm was monitoring communications between the Coast Guard and the rescue crew who had possibly located Scott and Alex, while the Professor kept going full speed towards the storm, which was growing more and more visible in the distance. Marvel Girl, Alchemist and Colossus had stayed mainly quiet in the back, and the Professor could sense that Alchemist was trying to keep himself grounded by counting as far as he could by sevens.

He had considered the idea that Alchemist was a poor choice for this mission due to his astraphobia, but there was little choice. Alchemist was one of the most adaptable mutants they had and his assistance could mean the difference between a successful or failed mission. Alchemist did say that he would be fine and that what he was doing was just trying to make sure he stayed fine. Either way, Alchemist was trying his best. If they were quick, and provided nothing else went wrong, this should be a smooth mission.

Colossus had kept an eye on Alchemist the whole trip, but didn't say much. He was allowing Alchemist to deal with his own issue, waiting to help only if beckoned. Marvel Girl on the other hand was a little more complicated. She was reaching out with her telepathy, trying to get a lock on Scott's familiar mental signature, but wasn't having much luck. The Professor knew she was fretting about this whole thing, and he couldn't blame her. Still, he trusted she would be objective as a junior leader of the X-Men.

Storm spoke up. "I just got a report. The rescue chopper that spotted Alex and Scott is down, a suspected lightning strike. No word on the rescue crew or the two boys."

Marvel Girl's concentration broke and she looked up when she heard Storm's report. She was about to become very worried, but the Professor spoke up before she had a chance. "We're coming up on their last known coordinates in a few minutes. Let's hope it's not too late."

The Professor's hope in the face of bad news was very reassuring, and Marvel Girl knew that Alchemist and Colossus were feeling the same. She could still sense Alchemist trying his best to stay calm as they punched into the storm's area of impact. Lightning flashes were abundant and the rain was heavy, but they had Storm with them. Alchemist knew that she wouldn't allow themselves to be in danger, so Alchemist just fretted about his anxiety instead. Colossus was nearby to make sure Alchemist wasn't alone.

Marvel Girl tried to relax herself; it was usually Scott who would tell her that everything would be ok, and he wasn't here. Marvel Girl didn't realize how much she depended on Scott as a voice of reason sometimes, and she was needing that now. Marvel Girl looked out the window at the meteorological carnage waging outside, and her thoughts drifted to Alchemist. Alchemist didn't talk much about the night that change his life forever, but she felt like this wasn't too far from that. She couldn't blame him for feeling nervous; even she wasn't feeling relaxed.

Suddenly, in the lightning flashes, she spotted something far to the right, their north. "What was that?" Marvel Girl spoke up. Another lightning flash lit up the sky again, and she saw it for sure, and was immediately alarmed. "Was that a tornado?"

Alchemist's eyes popped open. "What?" he said alarmed.

Colossus looked out the window, saw the funnel cloud and immediately reached over and shut the blinder of the window so Alchemist wouldn't see it. When Alchemist looked surprised at Colossus, he merely responded. "Trust me, comrade."

Alchemist sighed nervously. "It's a little late for that, but thanks…"

Storm was not so worried. "Be calm, Alchemist. I won't allow one to form near us."

Alchemist tried to breathe. "Couldn't you just…banish the storm? I know why you wouldn't before, but this is more of an emergency because of Scott and Alex…"

Storm looked back at Alchemist. "If this was a smaller storm, certainly, but a tropical storm is much larger and it would take me a long time to dissipate it with my powers, time I'm afraid we don't have and it would take all of my concentration."

Alchemist nodded. "That makes sense."

Colossus laid a hand on Alchemist's shoulder. "You are not alone."

"I know…I keep telling myself that."

"We will find Scott and Alex, rescue them and get out just as fast," the Professor reminded Alchemist. "We won't linger, so please stay calm if you can."

"I would appreciate that," Alchemist said, trying to regain his humor.

"Currently any funnels we see may not be any trouble, unless they touch down into the water."

"Not helping, Storm," Alchemist said, clasping his eyelids shut tight.

"It's only all the more imperative that we act fast. Be prepared, X-Men…"

XXXXXXXXXX

Scott, Alex and their would-be rescuers held on to each other as the storm continued to lash at them. They were expecting that soon a Coast Guard vessel would home in on the pilot's GPS signal and send out a rescue. Scott in particular hoped that it would be soon because Alex was definitely not looking so well. At one point, Alex almost nodded off. "Hey," Scott said loudly. "No snoozing! You got to stay awake, Alex!"

The copilot, whom Scott learned was also a field medic, added to Scott's plea. "He's right; staying awake is the only thing keeping you from complete hypothermia."

Alex sighed, and he was growing more and more tired. "I am so spent…I don't know how much longer I can force myself to stay awake."

"Just hold on for a little bit longer, Alex…," Scott said. "After all, help is on the way. Another chopper might come any minute…"

There was no sound of helicopter blades or sight of searchlights this time. Alex chuckled. "I think you're losing your touch, bro…"

"It worked last time; might as well keep trying."

"Keep that optimism up, Scott," the rescuer said. "We could all use it right now."

"Well," Scott said. "It helps to think that I doubt it can get worse."

"Now, see," the copilot said. "That's probably not the way to look at it. I've been in the forces long enough to know that when you think that, _that's_ when it hits the fan."

XXXXXXXXXX

The X-Jet was struggling to keep a straight path in the winds, but the Professor was confident in its ability to stay stable. They were coming close to the core of the storm, and where the last known coordinates of the rescue helicopter went down. If the boys were close, they could quickly rescue them.

Suddenly, the scanners picked up a signal coming from the waters: a GPS tracking signal, likely from one of the rescuers. "Marvel Girl," the Professor said. "Reach out your telepathy and see if you can find Scott and Alex."

"Ok," Marvel Girl did so, and immediately got a result. "Yes! We're coming up on them! They're with the rescue crew."

"Good," the Professor said. "We need to hurry."

Storm then looked out the window, towards their trajectory. "Oh, dear…"

Marvel Girl looked as well, and gasped. Colossus and Alchemist looked as well, and Alchemist instantly regretted it. "Oh my god…" he sank in his chair, closing his eyes.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Guys?" Alex said. "Do you hear a roar?"

Scott listened up. "Now that you mention it, it sounds like the winds are really picking up."

The rescue crew suddenly was on alert and were looking around. One of them finally spotted the source. "It just got worse…" he said, pointing towards the source.

All twisted around to look, and their stomachs turned into stone. Dropping from the clouds above was a whirling column of cloud, narrowing at the bottom into a point like a massive cave stalactite, all of the churning as it spun, inching closer to the waters. Alex had seen waterspouts before, but not nearly this large or imposing. Scott had never seen a proper tornado before, and he was beginning to see why Jason was so afraid of them. This one was huge, close and dangerous.

Suddenly, just below the base, the water churned into the circulation, creating a mass of water spinning around the bottom of the vortex. Before anyone could even fathom what they were seeing, the winds exploded to over a hundred miles per hour, tearing at them like claws. They also felt themselves being pulled into the circulation.

"Everyone!" the pilot said. "Bury your faces into our coats! We need to keep as small a target as possible!"

"Shouldn't we try to swim out of it?" Scott said.

"We're in its suction inflow. We'd just wear ourselves out trying. The best thing we can do is make sure our faces aren't torn up inside the debris cloud. Now do as we say!"

Scott and Alex found the nearest crew's coat to bury their faces in and waited. The crew held to the boys and to each other tightly. Scott couldn't believe this was happening; they were going to get sucked into a tornado and there was nothing they could do about it. They were at the mercy of the storm, the same type of storm that disfigured one of his own friends.

The twister churned its way towards them, sucking up everything in its path. It was only a stone's throw away now and the winds were trying to rip at any part of them it could. Scott held onto his brother tightly, and Alex did the same. No matter what happened to them, they would go together.

Suddenly, the winds died. They lurched a bit but the only thing moving them now was the waters themselves. Everyone looked at each other, wondering what was happening, and Scott suddenly became aware of a screeching sound, like a jet engine. Looking up, he suddenly saw a black shape facing down the twister, challenging it. He recognized the build immediately. "It's the X-Jet! Help is here!"

Everyone else looked up, and they could see a blast of wind was punching at the twister, blasting a hole into it. The rescuers weren't sure they believed what they were seeing; the winds seemed to be coming from the jet itself.

"Jean, now!" came a voice. Scott recognized it. It was Storm! "I can't hold it back for long!"

From beneath the plane, the loading ramp lowered from beneath the place. They saw a red-haired girl, dressed in a black sleeveless suit with a gold belt and boots step out, a fastened pendant around her neck bearing a gold badge with a red X on a black center.

Marvel Girl called down to them. "Hang on! We're going to get you out of there!"

Scott was relieved at first, but wondered how exactly they would. Jean had never lifted more than two people before, and there were five. It would take considerable telekinetic strength. Doing it one at a time would take too long and the tornado was already fighting back.

Back on the plane, Marvel Girl was trying to reach down with her telekinesis and scooped them all up, but was having a lot of trouble wrapping her powers around them all. She was straining already and she wasn't even lifting. _"Professor,"_ she cried out mentally. _"I don't think I can get them all!"_

" _Keep trying, Jean,"_ the Professor's words came to her in her mind. _"You have to do it."_

Behind Marvel Girl, a struggling Alchemist was trying to block out the view of the tornado right in front of them, in addition to blocking out the images of that fateful April night. He was already sweating, and grasping the chair handles so tightly that his knuckles were white. He was breathing so hard that Colossus was growing very concerned.

Alchemist hated himself right now; one of his friends was in a bad situation and he was cowering like a lost puppy. He was an X-Man, damn it! He needed to be better than this. Jean was able to face the tornado! Why wasn't he?! He knew it was because he had been conditioned by Mother Nature herself to fear her, and there wasn't much he could do. If he did nothing, however, then Scott and his brother could suffer the same fate as he did, and they might not survive.

Alchemist's eyes blasted open. Scott and Alex were in very real danger, the same danger he was himself in months ago. Back then, he was powerless to do anything; he wasn't powerless this time. He had alchemy and the brains to do something. "Peter?" he said almost in a whimper.

Colossus was so surprised that Alchemist was still lucid that he almost jumped. "Yes?"

"Do we have a tethering rope?"

Colossus looked around automatically and found a rope tied to a small wench, just strong enough to carry one person. Grabbing it, he offered it Alchemist who clipped it to his belt. "What are you doing?" Colossus said.

"Something incredibly stupid," Alchemist said.

Colossus suddenly knew what Alchemist was planning. "Jason, that rope is not strong enough!"

"It's not for them," Alchemist said, standing up. "It's in case something goes wrong." He made for the loading ramp.

The Professor suddenly sensed Alchemist was up to something. "Alchemist," he said aloud. "What are you doing?"

Alchemist was already right beside Jean, who was still trying to gather up all five people. "I'm making sure no one else goes through what I went through." Alchemist suddenly threw himself into a dive off of the place.

"Jason!" Colossus cried out.

Colossus' cry broke Marvel Girl's concentration, and he saw the plummeting form of Alchemist. "Jason, no!"

Alchemist plunged into the waters, close to the five.

"What is he doing?" the pilot asked.

"I don't know!" Scott said. "But I hope he hustles!"

The Professor called out with his telepathy to Storm. _"Hold on, Storm, Alchemist has a plan."_

" _Hurry,"_ Storm thought. _"It's already fighting back!"_

Back below, the five waited nervously. The winds fighting the twister looked like it was waning, and the hole was growing smaller. Any moment now, the twister could overpower all of them. "Why isn't she doing anything?" the copilot asked. "Isn't she one of you guys?"

"She is," Scott said. "She's a telekinetic, but she never did this many people before. She's having a hard time grabbing us all."

The three crew looked at each other, weighing their options. Finally, they agreed. "Then you two go."

Scott and Alex exclaimed together. "What?" Scott finished by himself. "You want us to leave you behind?"

"We're trained to accept the inevitable, and we already have help on the way," the pilot said. "You two are the reason we're here, so if it means we stay behind to save you, then so be it."

"No way!" Alex said. "We can't just leave you guys behind! You'll get chewed up!"

"Better us than you two," the copilot said. "We'll be fine. We're more equipped to survive than you two. Now get going!"

"But—" Alex began to say, but was interrupted when they were surrounded by a green glow coming up from the waters. Scott looked around and saw bolts of green lightning shut up from the waters.

"What's going on?!" Alex asked, surprised by this turn of events.

"I don't know!" Scott said. Just then, the water started bubbling from underneath. Scott thought the water was warming up, but that wasn't the case. He looked down and saw something was rushing up towards them and getting much larger.

Before he could fathom this, a mound of ice started rising from the water, surrounded by the same energy Scott was seeing. Suddenly, all five felt something touch their feet and push them out of the water. Everyone fell off of their feet on the slippery ice, completely flabbergasted at what was going on. Finally, Alchemist himself emerged from the waters with his hands planted against the ice, one on top of the other.

"It's Jason!" Scott said.

"What's he doing?" The copilot said.

"He's transmuting a giant iceberg to push us up to the X-Jet. He's using ice's own buoyancy to do the work!"

The pilot looked impressed. "I don't know how he's doing it, but don't that be all. You guys are amazing."

"Do you think he can do it?" Alex said. "He looks really beat."

Sure enough, Alchemist was looking a little sickly, like he was putting his own life energy into this. "Let's hope so!" Scott said. Looking up, he saw that they were closing in on the X-Jet.

The iceberg continued to grow under Alchemist's command, surrounded by a halo of alchemical energy, sucking in the water to freeze into ice. It took all of Alchemist's energy to focus on the transmutation and not acknowledge his worst fear still churning away behind him. He couldn't fail here; if he did, they would all die, so he pushed himself beyond his limits. He began to taste blood coming from popped capillaries in his nose; he was overdoing it but he had to keep going. He just hope he didn't start coughing up blood next.

After a minute, the iceberg gained enough height for the X-Jet to safely guide the boarding ramp. Alchemist finally stopped his transmutation, and keeled over instantly.

"Jason!" Scott said.

"I'll take care of him!" Marvel Girl said. "Everyone get on board, now!"

She didn't have to ask twice; Scott, Alex and the three rescue team members quickly boarded the craft. Marvel Girl saw that Alchemist wasn't moving and quickly reached out with telekinesis to scoop him up. Thankfully, Alchemist was comparatively light and so she was able to get him on board easily. "We're all on board! Get us out of here!"

The Professor reached for the controls, all the while calling out to a struggling Storm. _"Storm! Get back in here!"_

Storm was barely holding against the tornado's strength, and was relieved to let go with one final push, giving her the time to lower herself back into the X-Jet. "I'm in! Let's get out of here!"

The Professor steered the X-Jet away from the twister and immediately pushed the engines to maximum power, blasting off away from the tornado. The X-Jet shot out of the storm within minutes, and clear skies welcomed them.

Storm was soaking wet from the rain, and quickly saw an unconscious Alchemist with a worried Marvel Girl and Colossus hovering over him. "He is barely breathing," Colossus said, his voice edged with fear.

"He overdid it," Marvel Girl said. "I'm trying to wake him up, but he's really out of it."

"I'll tend to the boys," Storm said. "Keep trying, Jean…"

Marvel Girl nodded, and reached down into Alchemist's mind with her telepathy. He was there, only extremely fatigued. _"Jason, you need to wake up. You did it; you saved Scott and Alex. You're ok now."_

Colossus didn't know what Marvel Girl was saying to Alchemist. "Is he going to be all right?"

Suddenly, Alchemist coughed as he snapped awake. He sat up, hunching over like he got punched in the stomach, and his hands trembled from all of the abuse they endured. Marvel Girl relaxed. "He will be; he just needs a lot of rest. Can you help him into a chair? I'm going to check on Scott."

Colossus nodded, feeling relieved that his friend was ok. "Are you ok to stand?"

Alchemist was wheezing a bit as he spoke. "Yeah, I think so. I may need help."

Colossus helped Alchemist stand up; Colossus was strong enough that he could probably carry Alchemist no problem, even without his powers. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I just died and woke up again. I'm just glad we got out of there…"

Colossus undid the tethering rope attacked to Alchemist's belt. "Yes, let us go home so you can rest."

"Now _that_ sounds like a great idea."

Meanwhile, Marvel Girl and Storm were tending to the soaking wet survivors they just rescued. Marvel Girl wrapped blankets around a shivering Scott and Alex. "I'm glad you two are ok…"

"Yeah," Scott said. "Me too."

"Kind of sucks sitting on that ice though," Alex said.

"Well, be thankful," Marvel Girl smiled. "It was either the ice or being sucked up into a tornado. We already had one of us do that already, and I'm sure he'd rather you not do that."

"Yeah," Scott said. "I'll thank him when we get home."

"Wait," Alex said. "Is that how he got the—"

"The scar?" Scott finished. "Yeah, it was. That twister was more powerful than the one back there, but just as scary. Jean got to see him after that and he was hurt pretty bad."

"Wow," Alex said. "And he just threw himself out there to save us like that?"

"Yep. He must have been scared stiff to do that, but he saved us. We owe him big."

"Well, he's not the only one. I owe you big as well. You really kept me alive out there. I mean, if it wasn't for you…"

"Hey," Scott wrapped an arm around his brother. "It's like you said, Alex. We brothers have to stick together. I'm sure you'll get to return the favor someday."

Alex smiled. "Maybe…thanks, bro."

"Anytime."

While Marvel Girl watched over them, Storm was helping the rescue crew, who had watched the two brothers bond. "I have to say," the pilot said. "It seems you got quite a group here, miss. You all look out for each other."

"Yes," Storm said with admiration for Scott. "We do." She looked back at the rescue party. "I hope you don't tell anyone about us. We know that mutants are controversial and some know of our existence, but not where we are living for the moment. We really need to keep out of sight for now."

"It's ok, miss," the pilot said. "If anything, we owe you for saving us today. Our lips are sealed. As far as we're concerned, this was just another rescue operation. "

Storm seemed to accept that. "We will drop you off near Honolulu so you can make connections with your squad."

"Now that would be appreciated," the pilot said as he smiled.

XXXXXXXXXX

Back at the Institute, the snowball battle had just ended, and there was torn up snow everywhere. The New Mutants were strewn about on the porch, completely exhausted and covered with snow. Mr. McCoy barely looked tired, but he looked disappointed at the carnage. "Well, so much for our winter wonderland…" He dropped an unused snowball. He looked at the four New Mutants lying about, clearly done with snow. "It seems that I may need to try different approaches when it comes to teaching students on the propriety of wintertime activities…"

Mr. McCoy stepped over the fatigued New Mutants. "We'll have to wait until the next snowfall before we do that. As you were, students." He smiled as he entered the house to clean up. The New Mutants could only moan from exhaustion.

XXXXXXXXXX

A few hours later, Kurt waited outside the infirmary as Scott, Alex and Jason were examined by the Professor and Dr. McCoy. Alex was the worst off with minor hypothermia but was recovering nicely. Scott had a mild case of it as well, but was getting some good medical attention. Jason was more just tired than anything else. Kurt had gotten wind of what happened and wanted to check up on them, but was told to wait outside until they were stabilized.

The Professor exited the infirmary, and Kurt walked up to him. "Are they ready for visitors?"

The Professor smiled. "Yes, Kurt, they're quite safe now. Jean and Piotr are with them now. You may go ahead, but remember, they do need rest."

Kurt smiled. "Thank you, Professor." He began walking around the Professor to enter the infirmary.

"Hold a moment, Kurt." He turned his wheelchair around. When Kurt turned to face him, he saw that the Professor was offering his image inducer. "I was able to reset your inducer; it should be working fine now."

Kurt smiled with a toothy grin. "Thank you, Professor. I promise I won't mess it up again…" After the Professor got back, Kurt had given his inducer over to be fixed after it turned Kurt's fur bright magenta.

The Professor turned back around. "Yes, I'm sure you won't."

Kurt put on the inducer and pressed a button to activate the hologram.

Meanwhile, inside the infirmary, Jean was feeding Scott with some homemade chicken soup. Alex was in an adjacent bed, watching in amusement how Jean doted upon his older brother so. "Any chance I can get a bite?" Alex said, smiling.

"Wait your turn, Alex," Jean said, not looking at him as she placed a spoonful of soup in Scott's mouth. "There's only one of me."

Scott swallowed the soup quite happily. "Yeah, that hits the spot."

"You're lucky, you know?" Jean said. "You're body temperature was down nearly two degrees. Any longer in that water, you both could have probably had real problems."

"Yeah, well, as long as Alex doesn't do anymore storm surfer specials, I think we won't have to worry about that anymore."

Alex smiled. "Yeah, I've learned my lesson."

Jean looked serious. "You did scare me, Scott. Thinking that I nearly lost you in the ocean…it scared me."

Scott looked sorry. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I'll try not to do that to you again." Scott was noticing that Alex was looking at him, as if he was completely stupid. Scott then realized that Alex was practically screaming at him in thought, wondering why he wasn't making a move. Scott couldn't blame him; Jean was a swell girl, that he knew, but she was taken by Duncan back in high school. He couldn't do anything while she was; that would be disrespectful, and he couldn't do that to Jean, as much as it sucked. He was too slow, and he had to deal with it. Alex would just have to understand.

A sneeze cut off his brooding, and all three looked at Jason in the bed, recovering from a sneeze. "It just goes to figure," Jason said, sounding a little congested. "They are in the ocean for hours and don't get a sniffle, but me? Hell no!"

Scott and Alex tried to bite their lips. Jason's rant sounded rather comical with congestion. "Well, Jase," Alex said. "No good deed goes unpunished."

"You're telling me?" Jason said. "I mean, Scott gets a beautiful nursemaid to tend to him, and I get this." Jason motioned to Piotr who was tending to him.

Piotr made a very strange look at the comment, unsure if he should be offended, apologetic or what.

Jason looked at Piotr, and started cracking up. "The look on your face, Peter…"

Piotr realized that Jason was teasing him. "You are evil, Jason."

"You know it!" Jason said, laying back in the pillow. "Your slavish attention is quite welcome though."

Piotr shoved Jason's shoulder, who over-dramatically reacted to it.

"Hey! I'm sick! You can't do that!"

The others shared the laugh. Alex sobered up first. "Hey, Jase, thanks for what you did. I heard that it was really hard for you to do that."

"Yeah," Scott said. "That could not have been easy for you to do that."

Jason smiled. "Honestly, after snapping out of it, it was quite easy. I mean, Scott, look at me. I'm an exemplar of why what happened to me shouldn't happen to anyone else if I can help it. No one should go through what I went through, and I mean it."

"We know," Jean said. "Thank you, Jason."

"You're welcome. I had the power to prevent it from happening, and I wasn't about to mess it up this time."

Piotr looked concerned. "Is that how you felt back then?"

Jason looked at Piotr. "No, there was nothing that could have been done for me then, or my dad. This time was different; I did have a means to save my friends and I wasn't going to let my own PTSD stop me. I know no one would blame me, but sympathy won't save anyone. Owning up to my fears and facing them when my friends face them is what matters. I'm still fucking terrified of storms, and that's not going to change. Despite that, I can't let that keep me from doing what I need to do."

"Well, in any event, thanks," Scott said. "You really saved us out there."

"You're welcome," Jason said, laying back against the pillow.

"Hey, guys!"

Everyone looked to see Kurt walk in, his image inducer on. Everyone stood staring at Kurt.

Jason was the first to say something. "What the fwow?"

Kurt blinked. "What?"

Jason and Piotr looked at each other, completely unsure of what to say.

Kurt finally spoke. "You're all acting weird. I was just stopping by to see if you guys were ok."

Scott looked at Jean, and Jean was looking like he was trying very hard not to laugh. "Uh…yeah…we're ok…ma'am?"

Kurt looked really confused. "'Ma'am'? Are you sure you're ok?"

"I think we are," Alex said. "The real question is 'are you?'"

"What do you mean?" Kurt stepped into the room, and quickly noticed his reflection in a mirror. He was now supporting dark lipstick, longer hair and eyelashes, and quite a curvaceous figure complete with some tasteful breasts. "AHH!" Kurt screamed.

Everyone broke into laughter at Kurt's incredulity. Whipping around, he screamed. "Professor?!"

The Professor was waiting just outside, grinning. "I'm terribly sorry, Kurt, but I simply couldn't resist."

Jason was clapping as he was laughing. "Well, I have to say, Kurt. You do look good!"

"Very funny, Jason," Kurt said ruefully.

Everyone else was laughing at the practical joke, and even Kurt found himself laughing at it. He then checked himself out in the mirror. "You know, I _do_ look good."

Scott looked at Alex. "Well, Alex, this is just one thing that might happen if you ever decide to come here with us."

Alex was still recovering from his own laughter. "Yeah? That's definitely tempting."

"No rush though," Jason said. "Trust me, it may not be easy here, but it's always entertaining. Right, Kourtney?" Jason looked at Kurt.

"Kourtney" crossed her arms.

Everyone else starting laughing again, and Scott knew that everything was just fine. They may have nearly died, but it was overall a good day. He wouldn't trade this experience for another.

XXXXXXXXXX

 _And there it is. Chapter 1 already done! (Well look at me there…) I told you I'd stick this out! Hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 2 comes at a good time. Here's a synopsis._

 _It's Christmastime in the Big Apple, and the very atmosphere is festive. While the city prepares, an angel seems to be swooping in and saving people and stopping bad guys. Jason and Rogue are sent into the city to investigate these angel sightings and soon find that someone else is interested in this angel. Can this heavenly messenger withstand an old threat, or will this angel fall? Find out in_ _ **Chapter 2: Wings**_ _._


	3. Chapter 2: Wings

**CHAPTER 2: Wings  
**

* * *

 _This is my MUCH belated Christmas gift to you, readers! Merry Christmahanakwanzika!_

 _December 22_ _nd_ _, 2011 – 7:27 PM_

The holiday spirit was strong at the Xavier Institute of Gifted Children, and everyone was in the lounge exchanging gifts and putting up the decorations that weren't placed yet. The place was alive with chatter and joy, and many of the students were enjoying one last night together before a lot of them left for the Christmas weekend to see their families. A select few were staying here purely because they didn't have families to go back to, but that didn't seem to dampen their moods. Tonight, it was all about fellowship and thanksgiving, and a lot of these students were quite thankful for being a part of this school of learning and training for their mutant powers.

Jason sat at the end of the couch with Bobby, Ray and Tabitha, enjoying a helping of eggnog with some apple pie cookies as they talked about their upcoming plans. "Bobby, you're parents are in Boston right?" Jason asked.

"Yep, that's where they are," Bobby said. "Not too far away, but not nearly far away enough. I'm pretty sure my brother still thinks I'm a spawn of Satan."

Tabitha was her usual care-free self. "There are worse things; your father could be in jail and your mother a recovering drug addict."

"Or they could be both dead," Ray said. "Although that depends on your outlook."

Jason looked somberly at Ray. "You're not sure?"

"My parents were a little conservative, but not overly," Ray said. "They died when I was eleven before I even had powers, and I've been living on the streets until the Professor found me."

That sobered up Jason. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok; it was a long time ago."

Bobby spoke up. "My parents aren't so bad; they just…have a hard time with the whole mutant thing."

Jason smiled. "I can sort of relate. My mother was not very sure of the whole thing; she's always kind of pious. She came around though."

"How?" Bobby asked.

"My Grandma Denise had a few words, or rather, she basically said something along the lines of 'Now you see here, Elizabeth Hollard-Downs, you stop that fussing right now. Your son is only using the gifts the good Lord gave him and I won't have my daughter saving face because it's not what you expected. Shape up or so help me, I will bend you over and give you a good swat!'" Jason altered his voice to imitate his grandmother, complete with waggling finger.

Tabitha broke out in laughter, while Ray and Bobby were agape. "Did she really say that?"

"Scouts honor!" Jason said, although he followed that up with, "Although I never was in the Scouts."

Both Bobby and Ray buried their faces in their hands as Tabitha still was in full laughter mode. Jason took the quick reprieve to look around the room. He could see Jean handing out gifts to the newer girls in the Institute, Rogue placing a few ornaments on the tree, Storm and Mr. McCoy talking about different things, Piotr sitting in a chair drawing in a sketchbook, and the Professor and Logan talking about other things. He then realized that he didn't see Kurt anywhere; Jason could only wonder what that one was up to tonight. The only other ones missing this little gathering was Scott and Kitty. After recovering overnight from the storm, Scott and Alex were flown back to Hawaii to spend a much safer holiday with the Masters family, while Kitty had flown out to Chicago to see her own family for Hanukkah.

Seeing the Professor reminded him that he needed to talk to him about a favor he had in mind. He hoped it wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience. He looked over at Piotr, still sitting by himself. While Piotr had generally been much happier at the Institute as of late, Jason could tell that he still dearly missed his family. Piotr needed something to really cheer him up, and Jason had an idea. Still, he would wait until he wasn't busy with Logan.

As Roberto was coming to join them at the couch, he espied Jean with Amara and Jubilee. Jean had given them all gifts, and they were both admiring them while expressing their thanks. At that moment, Jason finally saw Kurt practically slithering up to the from behind the couch, holding something in his hands, but he couldn't tell what. Finally, he hovered over Jubilee, and Jason at once noticed a small twig of mistletoe in his fingertips.

Jubilee noticed as well. "Kurt! In your dreams!" She was ignoring a chortling Jean and Amara.

Kurt didn't seem affected too much by the refusal. "All in the holiday spirit!" he said, and puckered up.

Jubilee slipped away from the couch. "Kurt, lay off!" She laughed as he ran off.

"Come on!" Kurt said. "Just one!" And he gave chase.

The Professor and Logan watched the two in their cat-and-mouse game. The Professor looked amused. "Ah, to be young again…"

Logan was quite the opposite. "Yeah…glad that's over."

The Professor was amused by Logan's general Scrooge outlook on the holiday, but Logan wasn't about to let his feelings ruin it for everyone else. "You know, Logan, you are welcome to hang with us at the Institute over the holiday. I'm sure no one will bother you."

"That's all right, Chuck," Logan said, and his eyes seemed to get a little distant. "But…I got a few things to take care of myself."

The Professor understood. Last year, Logan did the same thing. Something about this time of year affected him, but Logan was a private person and the Professor never pried. Logan had his reasons.

Meanwhile, Rogue had finished up decorating the tree and located Piotr still sketching in his sketchbook, taking in the festivities and allowing them to inspire him. Rogue had located a present and carried it over to Piotr. "Hey, Pete," she started.

Piotr looked a little startled when Rogue came up to him and spoke. "Oh, uh…hi, Rogue."

"Sorry I startled you," Rogue said. "Why are you by yourself?"

Piotr relaxed and shrugged. "Everyone is busy and I am not wanting to interrupt."

Rogue looked across the room, directly across from them was Jason talking with some of the New Mutant boys and Tabitha, and generally looking happy. Rogue knew the story about Piotr, or at least the general circumstances. Piotr had no idea where his family was, so the odds of him going home for Christmas were astronomically low. Rogue had no real family to go to herself, and so did a couple others here at the Institute. "It's going to be pretty quiet when a lot of these people go tomorrow."

Piotr looked around the room. The grand majority of these people were going to be gone tomorrow. Jason would stay an extra day tomorrow because he was going to take a faster means of travel come Saturday, but Rogue was generally right. "Yes, it will…"

Rogue didn't seemed bothered by the prospect. "Well, it might be fun having the place to ourselves. "The Prof, Ray, Mr. McCoy…"

Piotr wasn't sure what Rogue was implying. "I suppose so…"

Rogue lifted the Christmas present she brought over. "I actually got something for you. I drew your name out for the Secret Santa so I hope you like it."

Piotr had quite forgotten about the Secret Santa drawing earlier that week. He had drawn out Amara's name and made an art-piece for her for her gift, which she adored and got a frame for it. Piotr hadn't considered his name to be drawn, so was surprised. "Oh…I am sorry, Rogue. I did not realize."

"It's ok," Rogue said. "That's why it's a called a _Secret_ Santa." Rogue handed the gift to Piotr. "Go ahead and open it."

Piotr undid the bow and tore open the paper. He worked the box inside open and found a black sweater with a red pinstripe down each sleeve. Piotr looked at Rogue, and smiled. " _Spasibo bol'shoye_."

"It was nothing, really," Rogue said. "Jason actually helped me pick the size."

Piotr looked across the room, just in time to see that Jason had noticed Rogue had given Piotr his gift, and he was smiling across the room and gave a little wave.

"It was very thoughtful," Piotr said. "Thank you, Rogue."

From across the room, Jason smiled at seeing Piotr accept his gift. Rogue had come up to him and asked for a bit of help with a gift for Piotr because she had drawn his name in the Secret Santa and needed an idea. To be honest, Jason had a hard time thinking of a good idea as well, but was able to suggest a sweater since Piotr loved sweaters. It also got him to think about his own gift idea for Piotr, but he still needed to phone in a favor with the Professor first.

At this point, the chase between Jubilee and Kurt had reached Jason's group and Jubilee found herself tripped into sitting next to Bobby, and before she could recover, Kurt teleported over to the seat next to Jubilee, still holding the mistletoe over Jubilee's head. Kurt leaned in for the kiss, and Jubilee slithered away while Kurt had his eyes close. Kurt leaned in and with Jubilee gone, the mistletoe drifted over Bobby's head.

No one dared speak as Kurt inched closer to Bobby, who slowly grew horrified as what was about to happen. Everyone else shut their mouths but their eyes were wide open. Suddenly, Kurt realized that Jubilee was gone and he opened his eyes, and saw that he was inches away from giving Bobby a romantic kiss. They locked eyes for two seconds, and then both turned away, Kurt retching and Bobby flinching.

Everyone else burst into gut-bursting laughter, while Kurt scurried away to the opposite end of the couch looking a little green, while Bobby kept trying and failing to not look at Kurt. Jason was the first to recover. "Ok, that was epic…"

Tabitha was in tears. "Oh, man! That's better than anything I've come up with!"

Roberto and Ray seemed like they were trying to forget what they were about to see, but were still chortling.

"Hey, it could still work!" Jason said. "Kurt, do you still have that Kourtney version of your holo—" Jason ducked a flying pillow, lofted at him by an embarrassed Kurt.

"Are you ever going to let me live that down?!" Kurt said, flushed.

Jason merely mouthed. "Never."

Bobby was still in shock at the whole thing, and Jason thought he was literally going to melt away. Bobby had a feeling that he wasn't going to live this one down either.

XXXXXXXXXX

The air was also festive in Manhattan as last-minute shoppers crammed the malls and traffic slowed as people were trying to get to their holiday destinations, grateful for the reprieve in both work and school to see their families. Virtually every building was lit up in Christmas colors and store fronts chimed with Christmas carols. The sun had already set, but the snowy city was well lit up, least of all Times Square. New York City was definitely in love with the holidays.

Swinging from building to building was a lithe figure, dressed in a red-and-blue tight suit decorated with spider-web patterns, and dominated by a single black spider on the front, and a bright red spider on the back. His mask covered his entire face, dominated by large white eyes. Shooting web from specialized shooters in his wrists, he swung swiftly over the city below. When he reached the height of the swing, he shot another line out and swung again, letting his momentum carry him up and down town.

Spider-Man was quite a controversial figure: he was constantly maligned by the Daily Bugle—ironically where his out-of-suit-self Peter Parker worked as a freelance photographer—but lauded as a hero by the neighborhoods. It wasn't easy to balance his life as Spider-Man and as Peter Parker; he lived with his aunt May after his parents died, and later his uncle, and his aunt did not know. It kind of sucked to go at patrolling such a metropolis as New York by himself, but he really didn't have many to turn to. The Fantastic Four were usually holed up in the Baxter Building doing government work, and Iron Man was usually too busy doing the ladies than doing the duty. Still, Spider-Man did his best. Not quite two months ago, he ran into two mutants in the Bayville area east of his home neighborhood borough of Queens, and they helped him take down another mutant of fast feet and faster mouth. As it turned out, those mutants preferred to stay on the down low, but it was nice to have help such as theirs not too far away. If it came down to things, he can always swing by their place if something _really_ bad happened.

As he swung by a news chopper, he overheard something about a burning apartment building in the Upper East Side, and that a disabled woman was trapped inside high up, and firefighters were having a hell of a time getting to her. "Sounds like it's time to get to work…" Spider-Man said to himself, twisting around to swing northwards. Just as he did, he espied a fire-truck peeling through traffic, likely intent on reaching his destination. "Lead the way, reds! Don't wait up for me!" Spider-Man swung ahead of them.

Quickly, he came upon the apartment complex and immediately saw a number of firetrucks already parked outside. Most of the residents of the complex seemed already out, but Spider-Man knew better. One was still in there, and unable to get out. Looking down, he could see a young woman struggling with the firefighters, trying to go back in and save her mother. Spider-Man didn't need his so-called "spider-sense" to guess that was the disabled woman on the dispatch. Looking from his perch opposite of the complex, he could see where the smoke was pouring out of the windows. That had to be the place. Spider-Man swung across the street and landed on the side of the wall, sticking to it like his namesake.

"Ok," Spider-Man said to himself. "Get in, find the woman, get out. Sounds simple enough." Spider-Man looked around to see the best angle would be to smash in the window. "Looks like the good old-fashioned slingshot should be the be—OH GOD!" Spider-Man felt his spider-sense, a precognitive instinct that always flared up when he was in danger, light up like a flash bulb. He quickly ducked out of the way, and just in time as the window blew out. Spider-Man thought it was an explosion, but he looked just in time to see a figure dive out of the window. Spider-Man looked at him, and looked again. The guy was dressed in a white-and-gold uniform, and was carrying a sickly looking woman as he fell. Before he fell far, the guy's wings unfolded and he flew across the street.

"Wings?!" Spider-Man exclaimed. "Oh, that's just not fair!"

He watched as this guy flew to the street, located a bus stop bench, placed the women gently on it, and then flew away as if his duty was done. Spider-Man watched the guy go, disappearing into the snowy sky.

"This guy is for real?" Spider-Man said. "I thought he was just a joke!"

Down below, the young woman who was crying that her mother was still inside, gave into despair and stop struggling with the firefighters. She turned away, her face freezing due to the tears, but she didn't care. Her mother was as good as lost now, and there was nothing she could do. All at once, the guilt for not being a better daughter came rushing in, and she regretted fighting so much with her. She could give anything to have her back.

"Jaimie!" came a familiar cry. "I'm over here!"

The girl, Jaimie, looked up, and couldn't believe what she saw. Her mother was alive and well, sitting on a bus stop bench on the far side of the street. "Mom!" She ran across the street to her waiting mother, and nearly fell twice reaching her. When she reached her mom, she was crying fresh tears of happiness. "Oh, Mom!"

"It's ok, sweetie. I'm ok."

"How did you get out?" Jaimie asked.

Her mother looked up to the skies. "An angel saved me, honey…a _real_ angel…"

Spider-Man watched the whole exchange from his perch. "Well, can't say I've seen that before…" He looked up through the skies into where this "angel" character disappeared. "I wonder of those mutant guys know about him…"

XXXXXXXXXX

Warren Worthington III was a rather fortunate person, or so he kept telling himself. He was born into a wealthy family, and was subjected to inherit Worthington Industries, a major player in the capital trade of goods and services in the country. With its fair share in both government and residential contracts, business was quite good for the company. Warren was raised to take over the business, and maintain the Worthington name in all face and deed. His parents were proud of his accomplishments, and he was already close to be enrolled in Harvard.

There was just one little problem, for Warren had a very unique feature to him: when he was twelve years old, one night he woke up to feathers coating his bed. He didn't realize what was going on until he went to the bathroom, and saw himself in the mirror; rather, he saw the massive white wings sticking out from his shoulders. His father one caught him trying to remove them with a knife, and the blood was so bad that his father called in a concierge doctor to clean him up, and paid him triple the normal fee to keep him quiet. For a time, Warren debated having his wings removed surgically, but an X-Ray had revealed that his wings were firmly attached to the scapulae. Any attempt to remove them could cause severe weakness in the blades and nearby clavicles, permanently handicapping him. As an exchange, Warren found he could fold his wings under specialized harnesses which kept his wings secured against his back, as long as he kept a coat on. Summertime was absolute hell though.

Now that he was nineteen, Warren had grown to accept them, and even taught himself in secret how to fly. Over the past five years, he had heard of people with special abilities saving people from scum of the earth, including someone swinging from the buildings called Spider-Man. The press seemed to hate him, but the public seemed to have a less polarizing view. The Fantastic Four also had prestigious positions in the Baxter Building, and they were quite public with their abilities—Warren had actually met the youngest member Jonathan Storm who was a little too public with his sometimes—but they were always for the betterment of society. Lately, while his parents were on business trips to Europe, he began going out and rescuing people and leaving just as fast. He had fashioned a white suit with yellow trimmings to enforce the idea of him being an angel after the first newscasts described him as an angel. The suit had a partial cowl that covered a lot of his face save for the area around his mouth and eyes, also allowing his golden hair to say exposed like a halo. He knew he was no angel, and hardly an exemplar of a model citizen he thought to himself, but if he could do these good things for the city, perhaps his parents would be far less pious about him.

He arrived back in his penthouse suite in Worthington Towers after saving that mother from the burning building, high enough off of the ground so that no one would look up to see him flying. Landing on the patio, he took one last look over the city he called home. From here, it looked like nothing was wrong at all, but Warren knew better; this city kept the façade of a peaceful city, but like any metropolis, it was rife with trouble. He could only hope to make a dent into it. Because of his status as a billionaire bachelor, capturing the eye of many eligible bachelorettes—and the occasional bachelor—he had to keep himself discreet about his activities as well as his identity. It really was a lonesome life, but it's what he had to do.

Entering his room, he began to change out of his suit into nightwear when he noticed a blinking light on his cellphone. Picking it up, he noticed that there was a voicemail message, and the recent missed call registry listed the caller as his mother. Sighing, he dialed voicemail to listen to the message as he sat down.

" _Warren, if you're there, please pick up."_ A pause. _"I just wanted to call to tell you your father and I are in London and we were thinking about you. Please call, dear…you're dear to us…"_ The message ended.

With a touch of scorn, Warren deleted the message without a second thought. He didn't like having to be this bitter about his parents, but their parents were quite mixed about him, despite his best efforts to calm them. His father rarely spoke to him, and her mother was caught in a vortex of emotion where she was weighing her piety against her love for her only son. Warren wished he didn't like having to keep proving himself to them, mainly because of his wings. While he accepted the fact that he was different—he actually was thrilled by the prospect of flight—it was quite a downer when your parents seemed rather to save face rather than embrace their son.

Sitting down in a chair, he turned on the TV and saw the news reports were already quite buzzing about the newest appearance of the mysterious "angel," swooping in to save a woman from a burning apartment. Watching the interview, he felt a warmness flow through him. Despite what his parents thought of him, it was nice to see that he was making a difference out there.

XXXXXXXXXX

 _December 23_ _rd_ _, 2011 – 9:27 AM_

Jason, Piotr, Rogue, the Professor, Ray, and Mr. McCoy were watching much of the student body disperse in various vehicles, each destined to their own holiday destinations. Many of them wouldn't come back until well after the holiday, but a few would be back just after Christmas. Only six remained behind—Logan himself had already decided to take a drive—to watch them go, wishing them a safe and happy holiday.

As the last of the students disappeared out of the front gate, Jason realized that the place was already stone quiet. He was the latest to arrive at the Institute—arriving only this August—so he was here during the bustle of the arrivals of the New Mutants. Jason remembered with a smirk when he first met Sam Guthrie, a mutant who had the power to propel himself up to speeds close to 1800 feet per second, being invincible at this speeds. "Cannonball," as he was called, nearly took Jason's head clean off when he first arrived. Needless to say, Sam had made quite the first impression, and the second impression was a fence that finally stopped Cannonball as he shot overhead.

"Well," Jason said wistfully. "Can't say I'll miss the bustle."

The Professor smiled. "They are quite a free-spirited bunch."

"I'm right here, you know," Ray said.

Jason smiled as he looked at Ray. "Yeah? What of it?"

"It's a part of being young," the Professor said. "We should enjoy the youth we have while we have it. You never know when you realize that your youth has finally passed you by."

"True enough," Jason said.

"Well, with that all being said and done," Mr. McCoy said. "Who's wanting to help the Professor and I install Cerebro's new security updates?"

Jason, Ray, Rogue and Piotr looked at each other, completely unsure of what to say.

Mr. McCoy chuckled. "I'm just kidding, you four. After recent events, I'm sure all of you would rather kick back and relax. The Professor and I will be downstairs with Cerebro if you need anything."

Jason exhaled a bit. "That's nice to hear; I don't think I should be allowed around complex machinery at the moment. I might cause a power surge or something."

"I think we should be more worried about _me_ doing that," Ray said.

"True, but you never know," Jason said. "Let's get inside, already. It's still cold out here, after all…"

XXXXXXXXXX

" _Parker!"_

Peter Parker jumped at the sound of his boss' voice bellowing from the office. Peter was working on developing a few digital photos he had taken of the fire last night when he heard his name called, or rather screamed. Peter's blood chilled; his boss, J. Jonah Jameson, editor for the Daily Bugle, was quite a terror in a good mood. If his mood was poor though…

"C-coming, Mr. Jameson!" Peter yelled, nearly dropping his camera on the way to the office. Peter had been here barely a year, and he was already feeling like he was thirty-something with all of the stress of the job, poor pay, school and most importantly, his boss. Peter's skills of taking nigh impossible shots had saved his skin so far. Still, he imagined a rage-induced termination was just around the corner at all times.

Peter slid into the office. "You called, Mr.—"

Mr. Jameson didn't give him the chance to finish. "Where are the photos of the fire from last night?!"

"I-I'm still developing them, sir…" Peter gulped.

"Any of them have this 'Angel' character in them?"

Peter's silence was the answer, and Peter felt his blood turn into cement.

Jameson looked ready to pop. "What good are you?! This Angel character is the biggest news since Spider-Man and you're dropping the ball!"

Peter had to swallow. "B-b-but he flies, sir."

"Spider-Man swings from building to building doing devil-knows-what! Why should wings be a problem?! Parker, get me those pictures of this Angel or you're fired!"

"Y-yes, sir!" Peter ran for the door.

"And get me more pictures of Spider-Man! I want him dead to rights when the law finally catches up to him!"

Peter nearly slipped on the floor when Jameson had a footnote request for him as well, but acknowledged as he recovered. "Y-yes, sir!"

As soon as Peter was out the door, Jameson was "kind" enough to slam the door shut, punctuating how serious he was of his demands. Peter gave himself only two seconds to breathe and restart his heart—he figured that anything beyond three seconds would be dangerous to his health if his Hitler-look-alike of a boss caught him "slacking"—and he began his way out of the maze of cubicles and desks. The air outside of the building was very brisk, but compared to the heat he felt with his boss breathing down his neck, it was a welcome feeling.

Peter Parker looked around and found his favorite alleyway. The streets were already busy as were the sidewalks, and that was just what he needed. Going deep enough into the alley, he ducked out of sight and removed his shirt, revealing a blue-and-red suit with a black spider on the chest. He reached into his backpack and pulled out the mask and gloves. In seconds, his transformation from homely Peter Parker into Spider-Man was complete. He shot web out high, sticking into the bricks opposite of the street from him, and he swung out into the wintry air.

Spider-Man swung from building to building, his mind wondering where he could even think to look for this Angel character. He was there when a disaster struck, dealt with it and then flew off just as fast. Spider-Man was an agile being, but this Angel somehow was so fast that Spider-Man had a hard time tracking him, even if he was looking for him. He needed to find someone who might have an inkling of who he was, or even where he might go.

Spider-Man's mind flashed to his meeting with two mutants, Alchemist and Colossus, who had helped Spider-Man take out another mutant called Quicksilver. They had encountered each other in a suburb east of Queens called Bayville. The last time they had met, the one called Alchemist had requested Spider-Man to not blab about them to anyone, which Spider-Man had faithfully adhered to his request. That was two months ago, and Spider-Man had an idea if these two were mutants on the down-low, then they might have an idea who this Angel guy was. It was worth a shot anyway; anything to keep his bony little ass from getting fired.

XXXXXXXXXX

A businessman was in a bit of a fix; he was walking through Central Park when a punk kid blindsided him and made off with his suitcase. He tried to give chase, but the kid was younger than him and clearly had more stamina. At once point, he tripped and fell into the snow, and he was beginning to think this was a lost cause; that suitcase had his laptop in there which had some very important documents for his firm. His job could be on the line if he didn't do something.

A shadow darted over his head, naturally causing him to look up. He thought it was an eagle flying really low overhead, but he double-took when he realized that the body of the flying creature was shaped like a man! Who was he?

The being dived like a falcon at the punk and scooped him up like an eagle would to a mouse. The punk began hollering and screaming as he was snatched up and taken away. The businessman's eyes nearly felt out of his head, despite his glasses. The first thing he could do was watch as this being aimed for a flagstaff at a nearby memorial.

Suddenly, a mounted policeman, having heard the cries of the assault, rode up. "Are you all right, sir?"

The businessman was shook out of his stupor, and looked up at the officer. "I don't know yet. I must be seeing things."

"What happened?"

"I was attacked by this punk, and he made off with my suitcase that way!" The businessman pointed towards where the punk went, and saw that the punk now was struggling on top of the flagpole, hanging on only by his jacket. His hollers were unintelligible from this far, but they definitely sounded desperate. "But you won't believe, but this _guy_ just swooped down from above and put him up there on that flagpole!" He was beginning to ramble; even _he_ wasn't believing what he was saying. "I-it was an angel! He swooped down and put the punk up there!"

About halfway through the rambling, the mounted policeman looked checked out, but he _did_ see that a punk had somehow gotten himself stuck on the flagpole. As for this angel, he had heard about this "angel" going around but never believed it. This businessman was so flabbergasted that he probably didn't know what he saw.

A suitcase suddenly fell from the sky, landing in the snow right next to them, startling the poor horse. The businessman cut off his rambling and saw the suitcase. "That's my suitcase!" The businessman scooped it up, and looked to see where it fell from, and saw the flying man pass well overhead. Pointing to him, he said. "See?! Look over there! It's just as I said! An angel!"

The policeman looked where the businessman was pointing, and he saw it, and he still didn't believe it. "Oh my god…will you look at that…?"

XXXXXXXXXX

Warren had been taking a relaxing stroll through Central Park to clear his head when he heard a commotion further in. From afar, he had espied a punk tangling with a businessman, trying to take his briefcase. He watched as the punk managed to relieve the businessman of the case and run off. The businessman tried to give chase, but the punk was clearly more in shape.

Frowning, he shed his overcoat, revealing his white-and-gold bodysuit and pulled the cowl over his eyes to avoid recognition. He undid his harness and his wings unfolded; once he was free of the harness he took off in flight and was able to quickly overtake the punk and scoop him right up.

"Wha—?!" The punk cried. "Put me down! You got no rights!"

Warren carried him even higher, and the punk realized that they were really high off the ground now, and he grew quite afraid of the distance between him and an unceremonious landing. "N-no! Don't let go of me!"

Warren blocked out the punk's pleas, despite promising that he would go straight and go to church as he placed him on a flagpole by his coat. The punk even handed over the briefcase quite willingly, but Warren was deaf to his pleas. Perhaps this scare would set him straight, but a night's stay in jail might be more effective.

Warren flew back towards the businessman, and found him talking to a mounted policeman. Swooping overhead, he dropped the suitcase as he flew over them and aimed his departure towards the sunlight to avoid any good views of him. He circulated back once he was sure they were no longer watching him, and found his abandoned coat. Looking around to make sure he was alone, he pulled off the cowl from his face, and quickly bound his wings into the harness. It took only a minute, but Warren always grew anxious if he did this away from the privacy of his penthouse suite. Finally, he got his overcoat on and walked away, relieved that no one saw him.

Unfortunately, someone _did_ see him. From the shadows of a tree, an older man in a hat and a trench coat had watched the entire thing. He had observed Warren and knew what he was, and was actively looking to refill his ranks after a disastrous turn of events had robbed him of a base and at least one of his recruits was AWOL. All of that was just one week ago.

For the past week, he had laid low and because of his proximity to his old friend in this city, he had to be extra careful. He despised having to use such transportations as public transit, but if he needed to stay discreet, he needed to go all the way to avoid detection. If he was successful, he could score another promising recruit, although he felt that none would ever measure up to the one that so resoundingly destroyed his base and scattered his recruits.

He was not discouraged though; he may not have won the battle that day, but the war was far from over, and Magneto intended to win, with or without the most promising mutant he had ever encountered: Alchemist.

XXXXXXXXXX

" _So, Dr. Garrison, you're slating these angel sightings as this year's UFO sighting?"_

" _Generally speaking, yes…"_

Back at the Xavier Institute, everyone was gathered in the room, mildly listening to the TV as an interview with a paranormal scientific skeptic expert was discussing the increase in angel sightings as of late.

" _Tales like these, once they repeat themselves, eventually grow a life of their own, and the more they're told, myth and fact become so intertwined that it becomes difficult to tell apart the real from the fantasy. By this point, even usually rational people will start believing such irrationalities."_

" _So what should we take from these 'angel' sightings, like to woman saved from the building, or even the most recent sighting in the park?"_

" _While I cannot pretend to know what these people have seen, I believe that there is a far more rational explanation than a winged man or even an angel coming to the rescue of these poor people…"_

Jason looked up at the TV. "He is definitely not someone I'd invite to a party; likely a killjoy."

"He's not unlike myself, Jason," the Professor said. "Everyone needs a realist in their lives in order to keep themselves balanced. While I generally do embrace the realistic side of things, what sets me apart is that I make room for belief."

Jason looked back at the chess game he was having with Mr. McCoy. "And what do you believe?"

"I believe that there is definitely more to what's going on than we know about this angel."

"'Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares,'"Mr. McCoy said.

Piotr, who was sitting nearby sketching in his sketchbook, looked at Mr. McCoy. "That is not Shakespeare, is it?"

"More like the Bible," Jason said, moving a pawn forward.

"You're right," Mr. McCoy said. "It's from the book of Hebrews."

Jason looked at Piotr. "Remember that friend I told you about? Samantha? I wasn't religious, but she was, and she once told me about that verse, and that its meaning was more or less remember to be kind to one another; you never know whom you might be helping."

"A worthy message," the Professor said. "In this regard though, I do have my doubts that this angel is of the heavenly variety."

Piotr looked at the Professor. "Do you think he is demon?"

Rogue scoffed from her seat, watching the chess game with minimal interest. "Yeah right…"

"'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," Mr. McCoy quoted.

"Now _that_ was Shakespeare…," Rogue said.

Mr. McCoy nodded, pleased.

"We read that passage in _Hamlet_ earlier this year," Jason said, frowning as Mr. McCoy had just taken the pawn he just moved with a knight. "I personally preferred _King Lear._ "

"Pertaining to Piotr's question," the Professor continued. "No, I don't. I'm more suspicious that he is one of us, and if Cerebro wasn't going through extensive firmware upgrades, we might be able to detect him."

Jason looked at the Professor. "And he's been literally flying around the entire city rescuing people."

"Quite so," the Professor said gravely. "I fear that his activities, noble as they are, may jeopardize the safety of mutants everywhere if he's discovered. We will have to intercept him somehow and talk to him in the very least. He could join us here at the Institute, or relieve himself of his self-imposed duties. Either way, we must protect our own from his admittedly beautiful sentiments."

Jason looked uncomfortable. "Am I the only one who thinks that the idea sounds absolutely crazy? I mean, telling people to quit doing something because it's bad is easy enough, but to tell someone to quit doing something _good_ because it's bad…talk about a mind-fuck."

"It is a very unusual circumstance," the Professor said. "But if we need to conserve mutant anonymity, we need to think of the greater good."

Jason sighed. "It sucks, really. I can hardly wait for the day when people will look at us and think we're special, and not different."

"As do I, Jason," the Professor said. "As do I."

Piotr looked at Jason. "It will happen, Jason."

"I know…," Jason said. "Sue me if I'm impatient."

"Patience is a virtue, but it's not wrong to desire something beautiful."

Jason sighed again, eager to change the subject. "So, what should we do?"

"Someone should go to the city and attempt to track him down. I know this will be difficult without Cerebro, but we don't have time to wait until he messes up."

"Yeah, that's a good idea! We could go!" Rogue spoke up, rather enthusiastically. Sobering up slightly, she continued. "I mean, me and another could. I'm really going nuts just sitting here…"

The Professor smiled. "I actually had you in mind, as well as Jason. I believe two is enough for this, but in the event it becomes problematic, we can send Piotr and Ray after you, provided Ray follows his teammates' lead."

Ray wasn't with them in the room; he was napping in his own room, grateful for the peace and quiet.

"He's been sighted almost a dozen times so far…," Jason said. "Where would we start?"

"The most recent sighting will likely be the most fruitful, but in the meantime, I'll have Hank compile a complete list of sightings and eyewitness statements for each. Hopefully through them, we might triangulate his position."

"Meanwhile, Rogue and I will interrogate the witnesses to see if we can narrow down the list of suspects, right?" Jason shook his head. "God, I sound like Detective Stabler…"

"You _will_ be interviewing them to see what we can learn of this angel individual himself," the Professor himself. "I believe the best place to start will be the mother who this angel saved last night. I believe the news report mentioned that they were staying in a hotel where they were taking donations to help replace many of their belongings."

"Good place to start…" Jason said.

"As for the businessman, I believe he's working at—" The Professor cut himself off and looked away from them.

Jason noticed the gesture. "What is it?"

"It seems we have a visitor…" the Professor said slowly.

Jason, Piotr and Rogue got to their feet. "An invader?" Jason asked.

"No," the Professor said. "More like someone who could help us with our little problem, provided he lives through the security protocols."

XXXXXXXXXX

Spider-Man had swung through Brooklyn and Queens, retracing his steps, as it were, to where he first met the two mutants: Bayville, a bayside suburb that was rather unremarkable by itself, although it was home to a rather private school for the gifted: the Xavier Institute for Gifted Children. Spider-Man had no idea what it meant by _gifted_ , but Spider-Man had an inkling that it was for the exceptional student. Alchemist and Colossus didn't sound like they were from around here, so unless he was completely wrong, they might be students. Alchemist sounded like he was from out West somewhere, while Colossus sounded distinctly Russian. Had they sounded more local, Spider-Man might not have been able to make his guess.

It took some exploring around the town—there was a rather annoying lack of tall buildings to swing from—but he found an off-road that lead towards a large mansion, fenced in and a good ways out of the way in a wooded area. Dropping down in front of the gate, he espied the metal sign that read _Xavier Institute for Gifted Children._ "Hmm, I wonder if there's like a doorkeep or something. What would I even say to him? 'Hello, I'm Spider-Man and I was wondering if you wanted to talk about a winged-man over a plate of Christmas cookies. What's this about a mask?' Yeah, that will go over well."

He looked through the gate and saw the mansion on the far side of the grounds. He looked around to see if there was anyone around. He did notice the tire-tracks in the snow. "Let's hope someone's home." Spider-Man climbed over the fence like his namesake and landed on the other side.

At once, an alarm sounded, and Spider-Man suddenly felt his spider-sense go crazy. "What the heck?!" Spider-Man exclaimed, and nearly jumped out of his suit when turrets rose out of the ground. Despite the fact Spider-Man's eyes were hidden behind the large white eyes of the suit, they too seemed to grow.

The turrets opened fire, and Spider-Man dodged them effortlessly. The turrets tracked him though, and Spider-Man clogged the barrels with his webs. More turrets rose up to challenge Spider-Man, and he dodged each fire, guided by his spider-sense when he couldn't see the danger. Not even a minute passed when all of the turrets suddenly shut down. Spider-Man stared around the grounds in shock, but when nothing else challenged him, he told himself, "Ok, either these things can only see by movement, or else someone shut them off. So, Pete, how about you move and stop standing still like an idiot?"

Spider-Man finally shook himself out of his battle stance and made his way towards the door. It took a bit to reach them, but when he did, he raised his hands to knock. The door opened on its own, and Spider-Man stared at it for a while. "Ok, can we please stop arriving in freaky-town?"

He entered the main vestibule and found it empty. To all appearances, the door opened by itself, and his spider-sense was starting to get antsy. He felt an impulse to go left, and so he did. Soon enough, he entered something that looked like a lounge. Looking around, he saw no one. "Uh…hello?!" He called out.

"Hello, Spider-Man," came a voice. "Welcome to my Institute…"

Spider-Man felt his spider-sense surge and he leaped to the side, and onto the wall, sticking there like his namesake. He looked just in time to see an older man in a wheelchair. Spider-Man had to blink. Was he there this whole time? "Oh, hello!"

The man turned his wheelchair to him. "There's no need to be afraid; if I truly expected you to attack me, I wouldn't be so relaxed."

"How do you know I won't?" Spider-Man asked. "Not that I would mind you, but why wouldn't you?"

The Professor made a knowing look. "Let's say I'm a good judge of character. Now, if you wouldn't mind…"

Spider-Man guessed what he was referring to. "Oh, sorry. It's a habit." He climbed down from the wall.

"Thank you, Spider-Man," the Professor asked. "I am Professor Charles Xavier, and I am the curator for this Institute. May I ask what brings you here?"

Spider-Man rubbed the back of his masked head. "You're probably going to not believe me, but I've been tracking down this new guy on the block: some guy with angel wings. I was wondering if you had some input."

The Professor steepled his fingers. "And why do you suppose I might know anything?"

"Let's be real, Professor," Spider-Man said. "No one would put turrets to squish only mildly-innocent spiders who just came to say 'hi'."

The Professor chuckled at that. "Perhaps you're right," the Professor said. "Generally, that only activates when someone comes without an invitation. Once I detected your presence and felt that you are trustworthy, I deactivated the defenses."

"And I can't be too happy about that," Spider-Man quipped. "Although you seem awfully sure about me. How could you know?"

The Professor seemed to gaze right into Spider-Man's soul, or so that's how it felt. After a few tense seconds, the Professor relaxed. "Perhaps you are ready to know. While it is true that this school is for the exceptional student, the exceptional student I have in mind are those born with the X-Gene, the source of mutant powers throughout the world."

"Mutants?" Spider-Man said. "You mean those guys I've been hearing about all around the world that have powers that don't seem to come from anywhere?"

"The same," the Professor said. "Our brethren around the world are treated like lesser beings or worse, and it's my duty here as the curator of this Institute to protect those that I can. Unlike how you have gotten your powers, Spider-Man, my students as well as myself were born with active X-Genes, which give us the powers and abilities we possess."

"Well, that only makes se—" Spider-Man cut himself off. "Wait a minute, how _did_ you know that I wasn't born with these powers?!"

"The same way how I determined you were trustworthy, as well as how I even knew you were here before you stepped foot onto the grounds. I am a telepath; I can read and control the minds of others should I choose to do so."

"You—" Spider-Man said, but balked again. "Wait, that means you—"

"I do," the Professor said. "Rest assured, I understand perfectly why you hide behind the mantle of Spider-Man, and why you must remain that way. Your secrets are safe with me," the Professor said, and then added telepathically. _"Peter Parker."_

Spider-Man felt his spider-sense go off like an alarm, but it went away just as fast. "Ok, now you're starting to freak me out…"

The Professor knew that Spider-Man was being glib. "Would you care to meet more of us? I understand you are acquainted with a couple of my students already."

Spider-Man looked at the Professor. "You reading my mind again?"

"Not this time," the Professor said. "Two of my students had told me that you and they have a history. Now if I may direct your attention to the middle of the room."

The wallcrawler looked towards the center of the room, and nearly jumped out of his suit. "How long have they been there?!"

Sure enough, Jason, Piotr, Rogue and Mr. McCoy were all there, amused at Spider-Man's exclamation. Jason looked at Piotr. "Oh, _now_ he sees us."

"My apologies, Spider-Man. In the event of a visitor that I haven't deduced I can trust, I can telepathically block the presence of people in the room. Once I deduced you were trustworthy, I lowered the veil as it were."

"That must come in handy," Spider-Man said.

"May I introduce to you Dr. Henry McCoy, one of our teachers here…"

The blue ape-like man stood up. "Pleased to meet you."

"And here we have Rogue…"

The pale girl with the white locks in her otherwise-dark-brown hair didn't stand up, but she waved. "How is it?"

"And I believe you are already acquainted with Jason Downs and Piotr Rasputin, otherwise known as Alchemist and Colossus."

Jason nodded in greeting. "Long time no see, Webhead."

"Are there more?" Spider-Man said.

"Yes, but they're currently visiting their families for the holiday." The Professor looked at the rest of the X-Men. "As it turns out, we were just discussing our mutual winged friend among each other. We suspect that he's a mutant and for the sake of our safety, we are going to either try to recruit him or tell him to cease his activities for the time being so his exposure won't have ramifications on the underground mutant presence in this country. We still have the looming eventuality of our revelation to the public hanging over us, and if we can, we need to delay it as much as possible for the smoothest transition."

Spider-Man couldn't blame him for saying that. Spider-Man was hardly free of criticism despite his extensive track record for helping anyone that needed help. Hell, he had a boss at the Daily Bugle that seemed to make it his personal mission to smear Spider-Man anyway he could. While the general public dismissed the accusations, some _did_ believe it and it made life hard for him. "You might be right," Spider-Man said. "I actually have it on good authority that there's someone else looking for him: a photojournalist. He's not a bad person, really, so I doubt he'd do anything intentionally. His _boss_ on the other hand…"

The Professor looked at Spider-Man, knowing what he was talking about, but he played along. "Then it is imperative that we intercept this angel."

Spider-Man had an idea. "I can search the rooftops, while the rest of you can follow up on leads."

Jason seemed to like that idea. "Sounds good to me, but what about that photojournalist? We're going to have to do something about him."

Spider-Man suppressed a flinch. "Nothing violent, I hope…"

Jason looked oddly at Spider-Man. "Do I look the type?"

The Professor answered instead. "Rogue and Jason will follow up on the leads; odds are you will encounter this journalist as you investigate. If you do, exercise discretion."

"Will do," Jason said.

"Well, if you all don't mind, I think I might be able to keep him occupied. In fact, if he follows you two around, he'll be less likely to do something we will all come to regret."

Jason looked at Spider-Man. "Is that a good idea? Wouldn't he get in the way?"

"Not entirely," the Professor said. "There's an old adage that states to keep one's friends close, but keep one's enemies even closer. If this journalist stays within your sight, you'd could better prevent him from publishing anything jeopardizing our safety."

"Hmm," Jason sighed. "Good point."

"I'll have him meet you at the hotel where that one woman is living until her apartment is taken care of." Spider-Man turned to leave. "I hate to be that buzzing fly, but this bug has gotta fly…like right now."

"Good luck, Spider-Man," the Professor said.

"I don't need luck! I'm…" Spider-Man checked himself. "Ok, you know what? I need a lot of luck. Gotta go!" With that, Spider-Man left the room.

Jason looked at the Professor. "How long until Cerebro is back online?"

"Another day at least," the Professor said. "We won't be able to use it to track down this angel today."

"Looks like we'll have to do this the hard way," Jason said.

"Fine by me," Rogue said.

Spider-Man suddenly peaked back in. "Hey, Prof? It's…ok for me to leave, right?"

The rest of the X-Men looked at each other in confusion at first, and then one by one they finally understood Spider-Man's hesitation and each had to bite their lips to keep from laughing.

"Oh, sure, it's funny for you guys!" Spider-Man quipped. "I tell you, I get no respect, no respect at all…"

XXXXXXXXXX

It was another hour later when Jason and Rogue arrived at the hotel in Manhattan where the disabled woman that "Angel" had saved last night was living while her insurance was dealing with the damage to her apartment. It was hardly a magnificent hotel, but Jason reasoned that it looked livable. Doubtless that the insurance could only afford so much, or rather the poor mother and daughter couldn't afford the difference. Jason pursed his lips at the thought; he hated bureaucrats.

"Not a bad place…I suppose," Rogue said.

"I was thinking the same thing," Jason said. "Price of paying for insurance that doesn't do that much to help you out, I suppose."

"You would know about that?" Rogue said.

Jason looked at Rogue. "Let's just say that my parents are _still_ paying off the medical bills…for both of us. Turns out that even the Affordable Healthcare Act doesn't solve everything. It helped, but Oklahoma is not the best place to get affordable healthcare."

Rogue smirked. "You actually call it the Affordable Healthcare Act?"

"Well, I'm not about to call it—" Jason cut himself off. "You know what? It's not even important."

"You're right," Rogue said. "Wasn't that photojournalist supposed to be here by now?"

"He's probably running late," Jason reasoned. "After all, it took us an hour ourselves to get here. Gotta love the holidays…"

"Yeah, you said it."

"Well, let's hope he arrives soon," Jason said, looking at the X-Van, or rather the parking meter next to it. "I only paid for an hour and I'm sure the Professor wouldn't like a ding like a parking ticket."

"We don't even know what he looks like," Rogue looked at the crowd, each person in it going about his or her holiday business. "Could be that guy, or that guy or—"

"Was I supposed to meet you?" came a voice.

Rogue and Jason looked to see a rather slim looking teenager, armed with a backpack, a rather expensive looking DSLR camera and a pair of glasses that added to his nerdy persona. As a matter of fact, had Jason had this guy as a classmate, he would have pegged him as the extremely intelligent but nerdy one. "Could be him?" Jason looked at Rogue.

"Do you see anyone else that looks like a photojournalist?"

The teen seemed to smile. "Yeah, that sounds like me." He offered a hand. "Peter Parker of the Daily Bugle, at least for now."

Jason shook the hand, but he caught Peter's choice of words. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Let's just say that my boss will have my ass nailed to a wall if I don't deliver on this Angel story."

"Is he that bad?" Rogue crossed her arms.

"Let's just say he has the personality to match his mustache."

Jason and Rogue looked at each other uncomfortably. While they had no idea what Peter's boss even looked like, the sheer absurdity of the claim sounded truthful enough that it had to be scary. "Perhaps we should change the subject."

Peter looked uncomfortable. "Yeah, I would appreciate that."

Jason looked back at the hotel. "I suppose you already know what we're here for."

"S-sort of," Peter said. "I got an anonymous tip to start here, and to expect company. Are you press?"

Jason and Rogue looked at each other again. "Well, to a point…no, we aren't."

"Really?" Peter said. "Then why are you here even asking about this angel guy?"

Jason thought fast. "Well…it's more like we run a blog about all of the weird things that happen around New York. Paranormal stuff and all that…"

Peter looked strangely at them. "So…you're like, what, Ghostbusters-wannabes?"

Jason shrugged. "Who you gonna call?"

Peter looked at the van across the street. "Not exactly a Hearse, but I suppose it does the job…"

"We'll take what we can get…"

"So why this angel guy then?" Peter asked.

"Let's just say that I'm very interested into seeing if he's really an angel…," Jason said.

"You think he's not?" Peter said.

Jason looked firm. "I think it's a possibility."

"Wait a minute," Rogue cut in. "Why are you interviewing him? Shouldn't it be the _mother_ we're supposed to interview?"

Peter and Jason looked at Rogue briefly, then Peter said. "Maybe you _could_ help. However, you're not going to be able to talk to anyone just because you run a blog."

Jason looked at Rogue again before continuing. "It worked for us so far…"

"Yeah, but this angel-guy is big news right now. There is probably going to be a _lot_ of people wanting to talk to her to get the scoop, so if you want to talk to her, you need to _be_ press."

Jason looked at Peter. "Are you suggesting we join forces?"

"More like I'm doing you a favor," Peter said. "But yeah, I'm more of a photographer than a photojournalist. You want to ask the questions, be my guest. You let me tag along and I can get you your interviews."

Jason looked at Rogue. "What do you think about this, Rogue?"

Rogue crossed her arms. "It's not like we'll have anyone else to help us get answers…"

Jason looked back at Peter. "Looks like you got a partner, or rather _partners._ "

Peter smiled, and looked at Rogue. "Good to hear, but I don't think I got your name."

Rogue narrowed her eyes. "That's because you didn't."

"Rogue," Jason said admonishingly, but turned to Peter. "It's nothing personal, Peter. _I_ don't even know her real name. We call her Rogue, because that's what she wanted us to call her."

Peter looked at Rogue, who merely stared Peter down, daring him to ask too many questions. Peter got the hint. "Ok, then. And you?"

"I'm Jason; just don't wear it out."

"Well, with that all out of the way," Peter said. "Shall we go?"

"Lead the way," Jason say.

As Peter walked by, Jason mouthed _"I can't believe that worked"_ to Rogue when he was sure Peter didn't see. Rogue had to smirk a bit; she wasn't sure if Jason was that smooth or just blundered into it. Either way, it was effective. She followed Jason into the hotel lobby as they followed Peter. Hopefully they could get answers soon.

XXXXXXXXXX

 _Four hours later…_

"Well, that was a bust," Jason sighed as he sat down in the booth of a coffee shop, practically sulking in the seat.

Rogue sat down in the seat next to Jason. "Not a single clue on who this guy is."

Peter looked just as dejected. "You think you have it bad? I have to face my boss that is one mustache-hair away from jailing the Jews again."

Jason peered over at Peter. "I'm going to pretend that I understand what you're talking about."

Peter had to laugh, but Jason could detect a level of weary bitterness underneath the laugh.

Rogue put her head in her hands, her two-tone locks draping over her hands. "At this rate, the next thing we'll hear about this guy is in the news columns."

"And not mine either," Peter said.

Jason rose up a bit. "The woman at the hotel said that this 'angel' guy literally just flew in, dropped her off and left the same way: up."

"The businessman more or less said the same thing." Rogue sighed. "Maybe this guy really _is_ an angel and we're wasting our time."

"Which would mean my neck is done for," Peter said, paling.

"If your job is that bad," Jason said. "Why stick to it?"

"Not many news outlets hire freelancer reporters, even more so on photographers, and that's what I am. I have to take what I can get."

"You can't be much older than me," Jason said. "Aren't you still a dependent?"

"I live with my aunt, sure, after my mom and dad passed away." Peter looked away as he continued. "But let's just say that it's hard enough to live in this city when you're already splitting the bills with someone."

"Ugh, good point," Jason said. Even back in Oklahoma, it was hard enough to make ends meet when everyone puts in their two bits. It got even harder when his father was now wheelchair bound, living off of a fixed income while Jason's mother and grandmother did their best to help. Heck, Grandma Denise moved in to help.

Peter straightened up. "Well, I have to see if I can scout out more leads before the day is over. Maybe if we're lucky, this 'angel' guy will show up again."

"Or unlucky for someone else considering he only shows up when some poor bastard is in trouble," Jason said, smiling grimly.

Peter looked away. "Well, nothing is ever perfect."

"You can say that again."

"Well, nothing is—"

"Never mind…" Jason said.

Peter chuckled a bit before leaving.

"So what do we do now?" Rogue said.

"Well, first, I can't think as cold and drained I am from today, so I think a hot drink is in order."

Several minutes later, Rogue and Jason had ordered and received their respective hot drinks, and sat down back at the booth. Jason had settled on hot chocolate, and was enjoying the contents quite thoroughly. "Ok, see? This wasn't all so bad with this to enjoy. I feel like my fingers were about to freeze off."

"You said it," Rogue said. "I can't stand this stupid cold weather."

"None of this in Mississippi?"

"Hell, no!"

Jason laughed. "Well, it's not usually in Oklahoma either."

"You miss it?"

Jason smiled a little sadly. "Sometimes. Not so much Oklahoma itself, but the people I left there."

"Your family?"

"Yeah."

"Well, you're lucky." Rogue took another sip from her coffee. "I didn't have much of a family."

"Just Irene?"

"Yeah. I'm surprised you remember her name."

"It happens to coincide with a name of a storm that I would prefer to keep giving the Voldemort-treatment, if you don't mind."

Rogue nodded. Hurricane Irene earlier this year was a particularly trying time for Jason given his chronic astraphobia. No one blamed him for lashing out as much as he did back then, once they learned how he became inflicted with it. Jason was still reluctant to talk about it, although the time did bring together a mutual loneliness between Jason and herself, and they were now fairly good friends because of it.

"Well, do you still plan to go see them?"

"Yeah, tomorrow, and hopefully this Angel-business clears up by then." Jason looked outside at the reddening sky. "Hmm, looks like it's going to get dark soon. Maybe we should head back."

"Why?" Rogue said. "We're out of the Institute, even if the day was a bust. We can still make something of it."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, I know there's a music store nearby…and you _do_ still owe me a gift."

Jason laughed in realization. "Oh, so that's how this is gonna be, huh?"

"You got a better idea?"

Jason shook his head. "Nothing substantial." Jason sighed as his mind returned to this afternoon, listening to the testimonies of the people that had seen this angel. It brought up a conversation he had with Scott before he left for Hawaii to see his newly-found brother. "Hey, Rogue, I was thinking…"

Rogue perked up. "What's up?"

"It's about today, really. We heard all of these amazing stories of this angel helping these people, and then leaving just like that. It got me thinking, do you really think…that…"

Rogue straightened up. "Come on, you don't mean—" Rogue caught herself when she saw Jason's face, etched in a bewildered concern. "Wait, you do? You seriously—" Rogue caught herself again as she realized how callus her response sounded, especially as Jason looked away. Rogue kicked herself; it was not her place to question someone else's beliefs against her own. Jason had every right to explore the metaphysical realm as much as the next person, and she shouldn't condemn that. "Jason, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

Jason looked back at Rogue. "Oh, it's not that, Rogue. I can't say I believe in angels either, but today had me thinking."

"About what?" Rogue crossed her arms at the table. The best she could do was at least hear Jason out.

"Well, I've always heard of guardian angels and even when I was younger I thought they were real enough, but as I grew up, I outgrew the idea. Before Scott left for Hawaii to meet up with his brother, he once told me about how he once believed in a guardian angel watching out over Alex when he heard about the angel sightings. He too outgrew the idea, up until he heard that Alex was alive after all. After hearing that, and hearing those people today, I've been wondering if there is more to this after all…"

Rogue somehow had an inkling that Jason was warming up for something; Jason wasn't the kind of person that would talk about metaphysics casually. "Is that all you're thinking about?"

Jason shook his head. "Not really." Jason pursed his lips, something Rogue noticed that he did when he was about to say something uncomfortable. "Well, this whole year has been very hard on me for a lot of reasons, and there was definitely more than one time I should have been either banged up a lot more or even dead, but I'm still here and ok, sort of. I never put much stock in fate or destiny, but this whole year has me thinking that I might be here for a reason, and that I'm not allowed to die until then."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, Rogue," Jason said, somewhat sadly. "It's been a hell of a year, and I have a feeling that I haven't seen the worst of it. I'm beginning to think that I was put here for a reason, but I don't know."

"Well, if you were," Rogue began slowly. "Then maybe you shouldn't worry about it. You'll find out soon enough and you'll be ready for it."

Jason shrugged. "I suppose you're right. No use fretting about it, anyway."

"Yeah, we don't need more mopey-you."

Jason laughed a bit. "The _world_ doesn't need more mopey-me." Jason downed the last of his hot chocolate. "Well, let's hit up that music store before it closes. Best we can do right now."

"Ok," Rogue said, standing up. "Are you going to be ok?"

"Yeah," Jason said. "I will be anyway. Maybe if we can finally resolve this angel business, it will finally get out of my head."

"If he ever shows up," Rogue said. "He's been pretty active up until now."

"Well, the night is still young," Jason said. "Although no news might mean that there are no more crazy accidents happening in New York. It's too close for Christmas for a tragedy."

XXXXXXXXXX

 _Brooklyn Bridge_

Spider-Man was perched on one of the tall piers of the bridge that connected Long Island to the Manhattan peninsula. The sun was already dying on the west, and Spider-Man shivered as the cold night winds began coming in from the ocean. "Why oh why did I not spring for the winter uniform?" he muttered to himself.

Spider-Man had come here after leaving Jason and Rogue alone back at the coffee house, under the guise of looking for leads. While that was half-true, Spider-Man's intentions were to keep an eye out for this angel directly. The Brooklyn Bridge was a good spot to monitor the city as he had a clear view of Manhattan without climbing to the top of the skyscrapers. He reasoned that this angel character was monitoring the city much like he was, considering how busy he had been this past week. He was getting here and there fairly quickly as well, which meant he had to have been stationed in the city itself, or else he really was an angel.

The traffic was milling back and forth below him, and his thoughts drifted momentarily. He had to meet up with Jason and Rogue soon again, and he hoped they didn't go far. He hated having to omit the fact that he was Spider-Man to someone he knew were people of unusual talents as he was, but he had very solid reasons to keep on the mask, as it were, even from those who would likely keep his secret as well as he could. Maybe one day he can open up to them, but something told him that even _they_ had to stay under the radar because of how the public would react to so-called metahumans, especially considering how badly many were reacting to Spider-Man himself. That was probably the reason why there were living in that secluded mansion. He had seen how capable two of the residents were. It was a shame they had to live in fear instead of being themselves. So much for progression, Spider-Man thought bitterly to himself.

Something caught the corner of his eye and his head turned so fast that the muscles in his neck nearly protested. Sure enough, something was soaring right by through the gaps in the piers, quite high over traffic but beneath Spider-Man's planar position. Despite the gathering darkness of the night, Spider-Man would clearly see white wings flapping strongly, carrying the being forward. Either it was the world's biggest seagull, or Spider-Man's luck was reversing.

At that moment, Spider-Man heard a collection of squealing tires and crashing cars. Spinning around, he saw one car in particular smash through the railing, dangerously tipping over towards the frigid Hudson River below. "Oh, crap!" Spider-Man exclaimed as he automatically dove off the pier, firing a silky line to swing himself towards the teetering car. Crowds of confused onlookers were already coming out of their cars, perplexed at the mysterious cause of the accident, but their collective confusion turns into terror as each one saw the car began tipping over. Spider-Man swooped in from above and shoot one line towards the cars bumper and pulled just as he landed against the concrete. The car disappeared over the ledge, but Spider-Man held on, ignoring the horrified gasps behind him. The line went taught and Spider-Man felt himself pulled towards the ledge.

"Spider strength, don't fail me now!" Spider-Man commanded himself to hold on as he managed to stop himself just inches from the broken barrier. The car stopped, but it swung dangerously on its silky savior while Spider-Man's mind raced on how to safely extract the passengers.

Suddenly, a winged figure swooped in from his left and down towards the car. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Spider-Man couldn't help himself. "So the Almighty finally thinks I need help. About time!"

The angel dived like a falcon towards the swinging car, and he grabbed onto it, flapping his wings to slow its swinging. Once it stopped swinging, he knocked on the car window. The startled passengers were at first freshly alarmed at seeing a winged man just outside their window, but a flash of relief soon spread on their faces. Apparently, the angel's reputation preceded him. They quickly made violent motions towards their daughter in the backseat, and the angel understood that they wanted him to take her first. Quickly, the angel opened up the back door and reached in for the girl. The girl was at first scared stiff, but after an assurance from her parents and the angel, she took his hand and he quickly lifted her out and up. He soared quickly upwards, passing Spider-Man and set down nearby.

"Wait here," the angel said.

The girl nodded, rather awestruck.

The angel quickly lifted off and dived for the car, while Spider-Man quipped. "Take you time, no hurry here!"

The angel reached the car and made for the passenger's side. He opened the door, and pulled out the woman. He drifted over to the driver's side and got the man. He slowly lifted them both, thankful for his powerful wings, back up to the bridge to rejoin their frightened daughter. They rose over the broken railing and then slowly descended towards the girl, who looked quite relieved that her mom and dad were quite safe.

Spider-Man, seeing that the car was now safe to hoist up, pulled the car back up onto the pavement. "Whew, that's one less car in the Hudson. We have more than enough of them down there, let me tell you, angel guy…" Spider-Man turned to see that the awestruck-nearly-reverent crowd was gathering around the angel, looking rather uncomfortable at the attention he was getting. Spider-Man put his head into one hand. "Aw, come on! I helped! I don't get anything?"

Spider-Man's quips were drowned out by exclamations like "He's real?" and "He saved them!" Spider-Man was sure he even heard someone say "Praise God" at one point. "Just face it, Spider-Man," he said to himself. "You're not the cool one anymore, not that you ever were but who's judgi—"

Something went off in Spider-Man's head, an impulse that Spider-Man attributed to shit about to hit the fan. His eyes shot automatically towards the angel, just in time to see him stumble over a snapped cable that somehow got around his ankle. In the confusion, the little girl, anxious to talk to her heavenly rescuer, approached him and while he struggled, one of his strong wings pushed her away and through the gap in the barrier. Spider-Man sprang after her a fraction of a second before the girl's mother gasped when she saw her daughter disappear from sight. The girl screamed as she plummeted towards the frigid water, but Spider-Man blocked it out. He shot a line towards the pier and reached out for the girl. He managed to grab onto her, and he pulled on the line, swinging them away. Spider-Man suddenly realized that the line was too long to swing from safely, and he held on to the girl tightly as they both plunged into the freezing waters.

Spider-Man felt like he just took a punch from a pile driver straight to the chest and head as the subzero waters threatened to knock him out. He struggled to keep hold as the silk began to grow brittle from the temperature. He needed an out and he needed it now.

Suddenly, the angel reappeared, having freed himself of the wire, and saw Spider-Man holding onto the girl, who was near unconsciousness from the water. He quickly grabbed Spider-Man's arm, and hoisted him out of the water. The angel carried them back onto the bridge, and Spider-Man made a note to never complain about the cold air again as it now felt even worse now. Thank goodness his suit was watertight, but that might not completely dissuade hypothermia. The angel set them down on the bridge.

"Are you all right?" The angel guy asked.

"As long as I don't smell like wet dog, I'm fine." Spider-Man shivered. "I don't, do I?"

The angel smiled weakly, understanding that Spider-Man was ok. The girl, however, was another matter. She was out and clearly pre-hypothermic. The mother rushed forward, and Spider-Man quickly handed her to her nearly-hysterical mother.

"He did that to her!" came a voice from the crowd. "He knocked her into the river! I saw him!"

Spider-Man's gaze shot towards the source of the voice, but didn't see anyone specific. He _did_ see that the crowd's attitude was shifting to reverent to abhorrent very quickly.

Another crowd member spoke up. "Yeah, I saw that too!"

Yet another said. "An angel wouldn't do that! He can't be an angel!"

"He must be some kind of freak!"

The angel's face paled; they honestly thought he did that on purpose?

Spider-Man interceded quickly. "Hey! No stoning the angels today! I can't remember Sunday School that well, but there just might be a proverb or something that 'sayeth to not stoneth the angel'."

The angel's face fell. "I-I didn't—"

"Hey, angel guy, let's listen to the great words of Gandalf the Grey and 'fly, we fools!'" Spider-Man said, seeing the crowd grow more hostile, and the growing sirens of the incoming paramedics.

The angel seemed to agree and soared upwards and away. Spider-Man twisted around, shot out a line and swung away. The crowd didn't seem to follow—not that they could—but Spider-Man doubled-back to the pier, and watched as the girl's family be intercepted by the paramedics who immediately got to work. Spider-Man read the hospital name on the side of the ambulance. He recognized the name and knew it was close by in Manhattan.

"Looks like the story isn't over yet. Time to head over there, and let's just hope they will let me borrow a towel."

XXXXXXXXXX

The sun had sank beneath the horizon and twilight had befallen New York City as Jason and Rogue were passing time in a music store. Rogue watched Jason bemusedly as he danced in place with headphones on his head, jamming out to a band she had just introduced him to. When Jason was completely oblivious to Rogue's choice of music and bands, Rogue decided to introduce the "country boy" to some metal, particularly from across the ocean as it were. Jason was apprehensive at first, being cultured almost purely in country and the occasional mainstream pop, but Rogue was determined to have him open his horizons, so she chose the song that brought her to the genre in the first place.

That was thirty minutes ago, and Jason was halfway through a fifth album of samples, and seemed oblivious to Rogue's amusement that Jason was quite enjoying it. Rogue decided to pick out a couple CDs for Jason to purchase one he finally grew tired of the music, although Rogue had a hunch that might be a while.

As she flipped through various CDs in the metal section, she managed to overhear the news on the overhead radio, which mentioned that yet another angel sighting was confirmed, this time over the Brooklyn Bridge. She immediately tuned her hearing into the radio's sound, and soon learned that the angel's rescue this time hit an unfortunate snag, although details are vague at the moment. Apparently, a girl had fallen into the river, but was saved by Spider-Man along with the angel, and that the girl was taken to a nearby hospital for examination.

As the news moved on to another topic of the day, Rogue abandoned the metal section and relocated Jason—still jamming out—and tapped him on the shoulder. Jason immediately stopped what he was doing, and actually turned red. "Uh, yes?" Jason said, his blush intensifying.

Rogue would have found Jason's embarrassment entertaining had it happened at any other time, but Rogue was all business right now. "Jason, we have to go. There was another sighting, real close by too."

Jason's flesh returned to its normal shade of peach as his mind switched back to the task at hand. "Where?"

"The Brooklyn Bridge, but I have a hunch that we need to go to the hospital."

That threw Jason. "What? Why?"

"Something went wrong, and a girl the angel tried to save ended up in the river."

Jason then paled. "Oh my god…"

"Yeah." Rogue quickly responded.

"We need to go" Jason said just as quickly.

"Yeah."

Jason and Rogue checked out of the music store and returned to the X-Van. It was a slow and somber drive to the nearest hospital, which was thankfully nearby, but when they arrived, they saw that the press was already there.

"How many of them actually care about the girl, I wonder," Jason spat bitterly as he pulled into a free spot.

"How are we even going to get in?" Rogue asked, noticing that the press was just barely within their legal limit of hanging in front of the entrance. "They're practically blocking the entrances."

"They're blocking the main entrance, but not the emergency entrance." Jason pointed out the vacant emergency entrance, although police were stationed to make sure a generous area was given to any incoming ambulances.

"But the cops are there," Rogue said. "They won't just let us in unless we have a real emergency."

"Still working on that," Jason said, as he got out of the X-Van. "But this is our best chance to find out more about this angel guy. If he goes to ground after this mess-up, we'll never find him."

"Right," Rogue said, claiming out herself.

Jason and Rogue were walking towards the emergency, trying to not attract the attention of the press or the police. They were just about to clear the press, when a photographer managed to look their direction, and apparently recognized him. "Hey! You two!"

Jason jumped slightly at being addressed, and was bewildered that any of the press would want to talk to him about anything, but when he located the one who called out to them, he relaxed. "Looks like Peter found us."

Rogue saw that sure enough their photographer friend from earlier, Peter Parker, had somehow tracked down the story here just as fast as they did if not faster. Peter broke from the press inconspicuously—not hard considering their attention was towards the door—and joined them. "You heard too, huh?"

"Who hasn't?" Jason quipped.

"Good point," Peter said. "But I doubt you'll be able to get in any easier than we are."

"We're going to try the ER," Rogue said. "But I don't know if the cops will let us through."

Peter eyed the imposing blue shirts blocking the curious from getting too curious, and began to look thoughtful. "I might have an idea, but I have to ask:" Peter began. "How good are you at acting?"

Jason looked at Peter, confused. "Uh, I'm okay at it, I think. Why?"

"Too bad."

 **WHAM!** Peter shot a fist into Jason's gut. Jason flopped to the ground, gasping for air as it was knocked out of him.

"What the hell?!" Rogue said.

"I just gave us a medical emergency, but help me with him!" Peter made to pick up the still gasping Jason by his arm.

Rogue was so stunned by what she just witnessed that she wordlessly obeyed, and both Peter and she carried Jason towards the ER. The police noticed the three, and Peter quickly said. "Hey, can't we get through?My friend here has a bad gallbladder, I think, and we need him look at, like now!"

The policeman looked briefly at the still gasping Jason, and quickly said. "Need a stretcher?"

"No-no!" Peter said, almost too quickly. "We just got this! Just need to get through, or am I going to have to call Moses to part the Red Sea for us?"

The policeman peered at Peter indignantly for a bit, but was thankfully feeling merciful. He stepped aside. "Get better soon, sir…"

Jason still couldn't quite respond, but his gasping was slowing. Peter and Rogue carried him through the doors, and saw that the emergency was reasonably crowded enough so the three could come in rather unnoticed. They put Jason on an empty chair, and Jason glared up at Peter. "I should break your jaw for that…" he wheezed.

"It got us in, so good acting," Peter said, patting Jason, who continued to regard Peter a little venomously, on the shoulder.

"Well, now what?" Rogue asked.

"Now I'm going to see if I can get some info. Sit tight, you two," Peter said. "Should you experience any further unpleasantness, Mr. Downs, please let me know. I'd hate to miss it."

Jason could have incinerated the entire hospital with the look he gave Peter, and promptly flipped Peter off.

"Well, at least you still know where your fingers are. This is good!" Peter left the scowling Jason behind.

Rogue looked at Jason. "I can't believe that even worked."

Jason leaned back, still clutching his gut. "I knew I hated the press for some reason…"

XXXXXXXXXX

Meanwhile, the little girl from the bridge had been admitted into the hospital before the three investigators had arrived in the ER. The doctors had diagnosed her with shock, a mild concussion and hypothermia. She was only in the water for a few seconds, but the fall had done the damage more than the water did. It was easy enough to reverse hypothermia on its own, but the combined shock and concussion from the fall with the hypothermia made recovery questionable, despite her rescuers' best efforts.

Warren looked over the still form of the girl remorsefully. He had managed to track the family down after the debacle on the bridge, and had watched them through the window. She saw how distraught the mother was, while the equally distraught father held it together and comforted his wife. From watching the silent exchange, Warren guessed that the girl's situation was serious, but not lethal yet. He espied the projected vitals on the monitor and saw that they were steady, which he took as a good sign. He had waited for the family to leave before working the window open and sliding in. He had lost track of time as he stood sorrowfully over the girl's form in the hospital, but it didn't matter. This girl was his responsibility and he let her down.

Warren reached to touch the girl's head, breathing a silent prayer to whomever that she recovers fully. Blinking away tears, Warren spoke quietly, "I'm sorry, little one…I let you down. I can hope you find it in your heart to forgive me someday."

The girl didn't stir under his touch or to the sound of his voice, and Warren was a little grateful despite the gravity of her situation. He would have no idea what to say to her had she responded. It was perhaps better if he left now before a nurse came back to check on her. Turning around, he slid the window shut, and spotted a closet. Opening it, he found a doctor's coat long enough that could hide his wings once he folded them tightly behind his back.

A minute later, Warren made his way out of the room and found himself trying to figure out how to get out of the hospital as discreetly as possible. He didn't have his change of clothes with him this time, which exposed him if he didn't get out quickly. He didn't make eye contact with anyone while he made for the elevator; thankfully the nurses seemed that they had more important things to do than monitor for strange doctors. He waited patiently for the elevator, all the while trying to not draw attention to himself by acting conspicuously, but the longer he waited, the more he felt like he had a target painted on his back. Finally, the elevator doors opened, and he strode into the thankfully empty elevator cab and he turned around just as they closed.

The elevator reached the ground floor and Warren strode out, feeling quite ready to leave and head back to Worthington Towers and keep a low profile for who-knows-how long. It was good for a while to be doing good deeds, but after today, he realized how much things could go wrong in this business and he wasn't sure he could deal with the consequences. Perhaps it was time to hang up the cape, as it were.

He soon found himself in the emergency room lobby, and the place was quite crowded with various injured or ill patients waiting to be helped by the clearly overworked hospital staff. The people here didn't seem to notice a tall blonde doctor slowly making his way through the room and towards the door. As he walked by, he espied a rather lean tan-haired youth and a pale girl with silver locks of hair towards the front of her dark brown hair talking to the receptionist. He soon got close enough to hear them talking.

"Please," said the tan-haired youth. "We're just looking for answers into this angel story."

The receptionist look exasperated. "I can't tell you where the family went, because I don't have the authority and _you_ don't have the business."

The girl put her hands on the desk. "Come on, we've been asking around all day and if they can help us track him down, it could help a lot of people."

"I'm sorry, but I can't. I'd lose my job if I did."

Warren tried not to pale as he made his way past them, but he quickened his pace. He was being tracked? By whom? What did they want?

He was so preoccupied about what he heard that he didn't see where he was going, and ran right into someone walking his way back from the restroom. "Watch where you're going!" the man barked.

"Sorry," Warren said quickly and quickly made his way around him.

The pale girl with the two-tone hair heard the ruckus and looked their way, and saw the "blonde doctor" stride away, and her eyes bulged as she saw something fall from underneath the coat: a long white feather.

"Jason!" she exclaimed. "It's him!"

Warren spun around, hearing the exclamation, and quickly noticed a third young man with a disfigured face get up suddenly, locking his eyes on him. Warren bolted down a nearby hallway, and overheard security at the door give chase as well. Warren dared to look behind him and saw that the scarred young man was hot on his heels. Whomever this guy was, he was well-trained in sprinting.

"Wait!" said the scarred young man. "We just want to talk!"

Warren had no idea if that was true or not, but he didn't dare stop. Even though this young man seemed willing to sit and talk, the security guards behind him were likely not. He espied a cart of towels along the hall's wall and acted at once; as he ran past, he yanked it around behind him, nearly toppling the cart in the process.

As he sprinted, he threw off the doctor's robe he borrowed and saw his opportunity ahead. Looking back, he saw that the scarred youth seemed to have easily evaded the trap—how skilled was this guy, he thought—and was still on him. Warren pulled on the cowl for his white-and-gold suit and reached the window. He pulled the window open, and quickly dived out. His wings spread out and he flew into the night, leaving his pursuers behind.

Thinking himself safe for the moment, he looked over his options. He had just come this close to being exposed for the "fraud" he was twice already, and his original thought that this "angel" business had finally went too far. It was time to fly back home and never mention this again. He already had an inkling that his parents had already heard of this exploits and were going to give him a good reaming once they came back from their business trip to London. He didn't see any good way of avoiding it either.

At the same time, for as long as it lasted, doing good however secretly was very fulfilling. Most of the time, he stayed alone in his private rooms, the only place he can unfold his wings without no one to judge him. For a long time, he had questioned why he had these wings. He could fly, something man has dreamed about for millennia, and he was alone and ashamed of them. Using them to save people seemed to give him purpose, but now that the mystique of his acts of heroism were evaporating, he began to feel that his time in the real world was over, and that he must now recede back to solitude. He would never be more than a freak in the eyes of the world, despite the near-reverence he had received.

His eyes espied lights emitting through the windows of a nearby cathedral, capturing his attention. He smiled with a sense of irony; he spent so much time soul-searching this past week, and the sheer irony of the idea that an angel be drawn to a church to soul-search was nearly laughable. Well, he supposed even messengers of God need a pep talk once in a while. Turning towards the church, he lowered from the sky towards the upper roof. Hopefully, there was a hatch he could get in without being seen.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jason had managed to evade the toppled towel cart, in addition to the discarded lab coat, as he had chased his target down the hall. He skidded to a halt just as the "angel" shot through the window and away. He watched him go, studying his direction. Despite the brightness of the "angel's" uniform, he was quickly gone into the darkness of the winter night. Slapping the wall in frustration, he turned down an adjacent hallway to rendezvous with Rogue and Peter, ignoring the security guards that weren't so limber to avoid the cart.

After a few or several turns, he managed his way back into the ER main lobby and found Rogue and Peter in conversation. As soon as he approached them, they looked at him. "Where did he go?" Rogue asked.

Jason was still breathing a little hard. "He's gone."

"Bummer," Peter said. "He left us a souvenir though." He held up the feather.

Jason looked at the long feather. It wasn't one of the prime flight feathers towards the wingtip—too short—but it was a still a good seven inches long. "Certainly doesn't look like he got it from the local pigeons."

"I was hoping to take this to some lab to see if they could tell me about it," Peter said.

"Us too, actually," Rogue said.

Jason nodded. "Shame he only left—" Jason stopped as he felt a strange trickle at the back of his head. It was painless, but Jason was familiar with it: it was the Professor seeking to speak with him on a telepathic level.

Peter noticed the strange expression on Jason's face. "Hey, what's eating you minus a parasite?"

Jason ignored the glib jab. "Just remembered that I need to take my meds. I'll be right back."

Rogue had noted Jason's face, and guessed what was up, and played along. "Right, you do that."

Jason smiled. "Thanks for the encouragement," Jason said dryly as he walked away.

He quickly located a bathroom and entered. It was thankfully vacant, and Jason stooped in front of a sink. He looked up into the mirror and with a sense of amusement, he saw Professor Xavier's face looking out at him. Jason smiled a bit; he once voiced his opinion that he didn't care for having people voice thoughts in his head—jokingly saying he had enough of his own to deal with—and the Professor remedied this sometimes with more theatrical telepathy where Jason would "see" the Professor either in the room, or in a reflection. Jason knew that the Professor was doing it to make Jason more comfortable speaking to him through telepathy by giving Jason the illusion that he wasn't.

The reflection of Charles Xavier spoke to Jason. "I hope you don't mind me dropping in, but I have some news."

"Good to know," Jason said aloud. The bathroom was still empty and hopefully will stay that way.

"With Cerebro indisposed at the moment, I've had to resort to more conventional means of mine to search for this angel. I cannot conform it, but I know that our angel may be a mutant after all."

"I had a hunch," Jason said. "I would think angels would try a little harder to stay hidden."

"Indeed. Furthermore, I finally have an identity: Warren Worthington the Third. He's the heir to Worthington Industries."

"You're kidding," Jason said, his eyes widening.

"I wish I was. He may not just be a mutant; he may be a mutant in the public eye."

Jason hissed a swear word mentally, knowing full well that the Professor could hear it, but the Professor shared his sentiments. "And I just lost him."

"Perhaps not," the Professor's image said. "While Hank was working on Cerebro, he ran a test scan on the local area, and it picked up mutant activity in the form of electromagnetism, but the source itself was masked."

Jason's mind immediately worked out the hint. Cerebro was typically telepathically powered through Professor Xavier, but it could detect mutants without his help. Few things in the world hindered its effectiveness. Throw in the aforementioned spike in electromagnetivity at the Bridge, Jason had quite enough to deduce to whom Professor Xavier was referring. "Magneto."

"I fear so. It seems the destruction of Asteroid M has not slowed him down."

Jason gritted his teeth. "And this angel is in his sights? That's the last thing we need."

"Yes. You must not only locate him quickly, but discourage any outside interest in Warren. Do you have a lead where he might have flown?"

"Not really," Jason said. "He was flying northwards I think."

"I will try to find him, but without a proper signature via Cerebro, it may prove difficult. In the meantime, you and Rogue make your way north and away further instructions."

"Understood."

The reflection of Charles Xavier melted away, leaving Jason's scarred face looking back at him. Jason merely looked at it for a brief second before turning away. He quickly relocated Rogue and Peter. Peter looked at him. "All drugged up now?"

One of Jason's thick eyebrows rose, and he quipped, "We're in a hospital. Who the fuck isn't?"

"Good point."

Jason looked at Rogue. "What we know is that the angel guy flew northwards. Anything northwards that might be of interest?"

Peter looked thoughtful, and Jason dared not to breathe as he hoped Worthington Industries wasn't one of them. Finally, Peter spoke up. "Only thing I know of close by is St Patrick's Old Cathedral and a lot of business towers. Doesn't mean much."

"Well, we can't wait around here anymore," Jason said. "Rogue and I will try to see if we can catch another glimpse of him."

Peter looked skeptical. "At this time of night? You're better off finding a needle in a haystack."

Jason made a glance at Rogue. "The thing about needles is that all we need is a little glimpse of the needle to find it." Jason made a wink at Rogue, out of view of Peter's eyes.

Rogue saw the gesture and understood. "Whatever. Let's just go already. I've had enough of this place."

Peter made a strange look, but shrugged. "Fine, it's your funeral. If you see him, let me know, ok? It's my neck on the line, you know."

Jason nodded. "Sure. Now get out of here already…"

Peter scoffed. "Fine, I know when I'm not wanted."

"Because I just told you."

Peter left the two as they began to leave. He left the building himself and worked his way into a dark alleyway and removed his backpack. Quickly opening it, he fished out his mask. "At least I can at least swing from building to building, but they get a nice warm van to drive in. What's a guy to do?"

XXXXXXXXXX

 _St. Patricks Old Cathedral_

Warren found himself in the balcony just above the narthex of the cathedral, overlooking the aisle towards the sanctuary near the far transept wall. He stood looking over the serene and somber atmosphere of the church as his mind was in turmoil about what happened at the bridge. He hoped that he could find some absolution here for what happened. Isn't that what people sought here? Absolution for their mistakes? Despite the holy atmosphere, he felt as welcome here as a gargoyle.

Despite it being Christmas Eve very soon, there was no mass tonight so he was alone in the church. He was granted solitude it seems, but no absolution. Warren looked sadly across the aisles from above; he tried to do the best he could with what he was given, so why did it all go wrong?

Warren suddenly sensed that he wasn't alone; turning around, he espied a floating figure in the shadows. Despite the darkness, Warren espied that the dim light of the cathedral showed that this figure was wearing a reddish helmet, and his form was enveloped by a billowing violet cape. Warren braced himself, although he didn't know why. "Who are you?"

"Someone like you," the form answered.

The sheer ambiguity of the answer didn't sit well with Warren, and he felt himself ready to run at a moment's notice. "What do you mean?"

"I am someone who used to wonder whom he was, someone who questioned his very existence to the point of asking myself 'why am I here?'" The figure drifted forward with some unseen force, and Warren felt a strange sensation shift as he did, and it caused the hairs on his neck to stand up. The figure continued. "I am someone who once thought whether he was cursed or blessed."

Warren's masked brow fell over his eyes. "Mind getting to the point?"

"Surely these same questions have echoed through your mind when your wings, white as a dove's, came to be yours."

Warren unconsciously looked at his wings. "What about them?"

"Don't you realize what marvelous gifts you have?" The figure touched down onto the ground. "You can fly; for eons, humankind has dreamed to do the same, and yet you are ashamed of it when you shouldn't be. You are among the blessed of the world, part of humanity's redemption, but you are alone, hiding in fear and shame when it should not be this way."

Warren had to give this stranger that point; ever since he tried to save anyone he could that crossed his path that needed his help, he felt that it could in some small way prove his point to the world, but after tonight... "I'm learning to deal with it," Warren said, although he didn't sound as sure as he liked.

Warren felt that this stranger had caught on his shaky resolve, and he was right. "Do you think that even after helping a few people out of many that you could gain their affection and trust? You saw how fast they turned on you for a simple mistake today; humankind is fickle so their affection is by no means lasting despite your efforts."

"No, but—" Warren started to automatically say, but caught himself as the words digested in his mind. "Wait a minute, how do you know about—"

"I've been watching you for some time, Warren," the stranger said. "I am Magneto, and I've been watching the plights of young mutants who hide among humankind just seeking to be normal, but why seek to be normal when evolution has chosen you to be extraordinary?"

"A mutant?" Warren said. "I'm a mutant?" He repeated to himself. He had heard of mutants from other parts of the globe, and their plight was particularly jarring; to be one here in a supposedly more tolerant country was unsettling.

"Indeed," Magneto said. "Your wings are a gift to you, but you have been misguided on how to use them because you seek favor from the wrong people. Your intentions are good, but all that is lacking is where you put them. There are many others like us out there, and I have gathered a few of them. I would like for you to meet them."

Despite the show of sympathy, something was just not right about this Magneto guy, Warren thought to himself. He knew too much, and how was he even able to track him down? "Listen, it sounds like a great sell," Warren said. "But if you really know who I am, you know that I just can't leave anywhere without someone noticing. Sorry, but I can't. Thanks though."

Warren turned to walk away, but didn't get far when his he heard the sound of metal bending. Turning around, he saw a metal bar rushing towards him, bending in the middle towards him. Ducking, the bar stuck into the wall over his head. "What are you doing?!"

Magneto, his hand risen towards Warren, seemed even darker than he was in the shadows. "You could have made this easy, but it seems that lately, a stubborn streak has been also appearing among the younger ones."

Warren didn't know what that was supposed to mean, but he didn't want to stick around to find out. He dived off the balcony, his cloud-white wings shooting open, and flew towards the transept. He quickly realized his mistake as there was no way out from over there, and he turned around, just in time to see Magneto reach for a floating candelabra high above the aisle, and snap it off with an unseen force. It shot towards Warren like a bullet, and its chain wrapped around his core and wings like a python. Despite his wings were now bound to his side, he found himself not falling, but somehow afloat off the ground. Looking at Magneto, he saw that his hands were still stretched towards him like a conductor of an orchestra.

"Regrettably," Magneto began. "You chose the harder path, but at least you aren't so much of a bother as the last one."

Warren looked at Magneto strangely; that was the second time he inferred that others turned him down and that he wasn't so welcoming of rejection. "What are you talking about?"

"It is of no consequence," Magneto said. "Once you see our true plight, I trust you will be more receptive of our role in the world." He turned around and Warren felt himself pulled along.

Several things happened at once: someone hollered "Heads up!", a red-and-blue blur plowed into Magneto, sending him flying through a stained glass window, and Warren felt himself fall only to be caught up in a new form of binding: a silky substance like a spider's web. Before he could even think about these things, the red-and-blue figure was back, only far less blurry. "Whew," he said. "Didn't think I'd ever see a day I'd net an angel, but that's New York for you."

Warren recognized him, both from earlier today and from the news articles. "You're Spider-Man," Warren said.

"Mask and webs give it away?" Spider-Man said.

Before Warren could respond, the doors leading to the nave of the cathedral burst open, permitting two figures dressed in gold and black uniforms into the aisle. One was a tall young man with a disfigured right side of his face, while the other was a shorter young lady with white locks dominating an otherwise brown weave of hair. The taller spoke first. "Well, can't say I see this every day."

"What happened?" The woman spoke up.

Before Warren had a chance to speak, Spider-Man spoke up. "Oh, just some buckethead thought he could steal a messenger from God. You know, just another Tuesday in New York."

Warren looked at Spider-Man. "Isn't it Friday?"

"Is it?" Spider-Man said. "TGIF."

"Did you say 'buckethead'?" The man said, looking slightly pale. "Fuck…"

"Great," the young lady said. "Magneto is back in business."

The man reached for the chain around Warren's core, and Warren watched with fascination and awe as the chain seemed cocooned in a green energy, changing into a long metal rod. Warren climbed to his feet and stretched his wings out. "Who are you all?"

"You fools!"

Before Alchemist and Rogue could say anything, Magneto stormed back into the cathedral, bellowing at them like a storm cloud. "I suppose it is too much to ask to see if you have learned anything, Alchemist…"

Alchemist scowled rather bitterly at Magneto. "I am a slow learner, what can I say?"

Magneto gathered his powers around him, raising up metal bars, candelabras and anything else he could grab around him. "Do not meddle in the affairs of those above you!" Magneto sent a pulpit flying towards the group.

Scattering like roaches, the X-Men, Spider-Man and Warren took cover as Magneto launched a magnetic assault. Alchemist dared not to look around for Magneto from behind his pillar, but at least this time, he wasn't alone.

Magneto espied Warren, who flew towards a window. Lifting up another broken chain from a different hanging candelabra, he launched it at Warren. Spider-Man saw it immediately and snagged it up with a webline, diverting its course into the wall, allowing Warren to escape. Spider-Man landed on the balcony ledge. "I hope that earns me some points with the man upstairs."

Magneto was about to launch something else at Spider-Man for interfering, but Alchemist interrupted him by transmuting a stone spike from underneath. Magneto was quick enough to levitate to the side, and quickly surrounded Alchemist with a magnetic field. Alchemist himself felt the side of his face about to explode, and quickly transmuted an opposing field, thankful that he didn't have to clap his hands anymore. After shaking off the charge, he forced his own towards Magneto.

Magneto and Alchemist shoved their respective magnetic fields towards each other, Alchemist's teeth gritted like a mad dog's. "I sort of have you to thank, Magneto," Alchemist said, his voice warbling in the magnetic field. "Your little genetic enhancer crashed down into the room you left me behind in, and a little trinket from it gave me a little boost. Not that I needed it to beat you, mind you…"

Magneto scowled. "You will never learn, young Alchemist."

"Oh, I think I have…" Alchemist said. "I've learned that I'm never alone when fighting you."

Magneto was about to ask why Alchemist would point something so cliché, when out of nowhere, a voice shouted at him. "Hey, buddy! I think you dropped this!" Magneto looked up just in time to see the chandelier he had thrown at Warren come right back at him. It smashed into him before he could react, sending him crashing into a pillar and to the ground, stunned.

Rogue didn't hesitate; she ducked out of hiding, pulled off one glove and snaked her bare hand onto the only exposed part on Magneto: his face. Rogue barely touched him before Magneto realized what was going on, and quickly snatched her hands away, cutting her hang against his helmet and kicking her away. Rogue sprawled into a pew while Magneto stood up shakily. Despite the brief contact, Rogue had done enough. Magneto's eyes focused just enough to see an incensed Rogue, recovering and Magneto could feel her magnetic field growing exponentially.

Magneto knew that this was a losing battle, and quickly levitated himself away.

"Hey!" Alchemist cried out, transmuting a stone staff and heaved it at Magneto.

Magneto saw it coming, and magnetically blocked it with some metal plates snatched from the altar. "Do not meddle in my affairs again, X-Men," he said menacingly, and then drifted out of view through the broken window.

"I'm not done with you, buckethead!" Rogue said, and levitated herself off the ground and flew after him.

"Wait!" Alchemist cried out.

"Don't worry!" Spider-Man swung in. "I'm on them like your scar is on your face!"

Before Alchemist could retort, Spider-Man swung out the window after Rogue and Magneto. Alchemist was now alone in the torn-apart cathedral. Alchemist rose his hands and slapped them against his thighs angrily. "Well, that's just fucking perfect. Leave me to clean up the mess! Thanks a lot, assholes!"

None of his teammates or allies heard his ranting. Rogue was right on Magneto's heels in the snowy night, and Magneto knew it. He quickly located several air conditioner units on top of the buildings and reached out with magnetic fields. With explosions of sparks, each air conditioner unit lifted off and flew behind Magneto.

Rogue was gaining on Magneto when she espied the flying air conditioner units. "That won't work on me, buckethead!" She summoned her own magnetic fields, which caught the rogue units and sent them flying away.

Spider-Man was swinging after Rogue and Magneto a little further behind, when his spider-sense picked up something afoot. He looked up just in time to see a flying air conditioner unit barrel towards him. "Yikes!" he yelped and adjusted his swinging, just in time to miss. "Hey! Stop throwing stuff!" He called out.

Magneto looked behind to see that Rogue had easily evaded his projectiles. He had underestimated the adaptive powers Rogue possessed. He would have to do something else. He looked ahead and found a towering skyscraper ahead of him. He shot forward with a fresh burst of speed towards it. Rogue recomposed herself after seeing him shoot forward like that and flew after him as fast as she could. Magneto disappeared behind the building and Rogue followed him around…only to find him not there.

Shocked, Rogue landed on a steel gargoyle and looked around. There was no view of Magneto anywhere. Spider-Man swung in and landed beside her. "Hey, where'd he go?"

"That's what I want to know." Rogue looked around. "He can't have gotten far…" Rogue lifted off and drifted around the building. "I can't see him; did he get—"

Magneto suddenly loomed over her from out of nowhere and exerted a massive magnetic pulse at Rogue. Rogue had copied Magneto's abilities, including the ability to levitate with magnetic fields, and Magneto knew it. Rogue found herself blown head over heels, flying out of control towards another skyscraper.

Spider-Man, having swung in, saw Rogue blown away. "Hey! Did anyone tell you not to hit a girl?"

Magneto was in the process of ripping off a metal gargoyle with magnetism when Spider-Man approached, and as Spider-Man swung in, he tore it right off and smacked Spider-Man hard. Magneto had no words for the web-slinger and simply took the detached gargoyle and flung it towards Rogue.

Rogue had just gotten her bearings, stopping herself just before she hit the building's neon lighting. She glared towards Magneto, and saw the gargoyle coming as fast as a jet plane. She barely ducked in time, and the gargoyle soared over her, smashing into the neon. An explosion of glass and cement showered down all around Rogue, and one large piece of debris hit Rogue on the back side of her head, stunning her enough to cause her to fall like a stone.

Rogue plummeted towards the ground, and nothing could stop a messy demise…had Warren not been there. Warren had doubled-back after escaping the cathedral, and had followed Rogue and Spider-Man. When Rogue started to fall, Warren dove towards her like a falcon and swept her up from a nasty fall. Warren rose further into the sky, carrying Rogue carefully and slowly; the wind was very cold and the last thing he wanted was a frostbitten victim after a rescue. One was enough for the day.

As Warren carried Rogue back towards the cathedral, a recovered Spider-Man had tried to pursue Magneto, but Magneto had gotten away. Doubling back, he found Warren carrying Rogue towards the cathedral. "Wow," Spider-Man said. "He just might be an angel after all…"

XXXXXXXXXX

Back at the hospital, Jason, Rogue and Warren were sitting in the waiting room, discussing the events of the day. Warren had reunited with Jason back in the cathedral, just after he got done with cleaning up the cathedral with alchemy, and had taken Rogue to the emergency room, but Rogue had thankfully regained consciousness on the way. Still, Jason had insisted on going back to the emergency room to rule out a concussion. Warren had accompanied them because Jason had asked him to come along so they could talk about a few things. Warren was unsure, but Jason insisted they'd hear him out so they could talk things over.

"So, you know that Magneto guy?" Warren said, having shed his costume and holstered his wings under a trench-coat.

"You could say that," Jason said a little distastefully. "It's more accurate to say that he and we have crossed paths more than once."

"Nothing good it seems."

"Not at all."

"Jason has more reasons to not like Magneto more than I do," Rogue said, nursing her headache with an icepack. "But Magneto is bad news, that's for sure."

Warren folded his hands in front of him. "He wanted to recruit me for some big thing he was doing…"

"Same song, second verse," Jason said. "For most of this year, he'd been trying to recruit me for some global campaign for mutant superiority. Tooting the same rhetoric: humanity needs to go, we need to conserve the mutant race, blah blah. He also doesn't take rejection well."

"Tell me about it," Warren said. "He tried to trap me and take me with him."

"Verse three," Jason said. "He did that to me, and I was still in a hospital myself."

Warren's eyes grew. "He did?"

"Yeah," Jason said, and started to look a little uncomfortable. "Please don't ask me too much about the details; it's not a pleasant experience to say the least. Let's just say that I'm very grateful the X-Men were there. It would have been very bad for me, or in the very least worse."

Warren had tried not to stare at Jason's garish scar that dominated the right side of Jason's face, and had the inkling that scar had played a small role in Jason's own experience with Magneto. "So who are the X-Men?"

"That's us," Jason said, motioning to Rogue. "We're something of a peacekeeping force headed by Professor Xavier. With Magneto trying to cause trouble, the Professor thought that something of a counterforce to protect humanity from Magneto was a good idea, and the past months have shown that was a good idea."

Warren wasn't sure he wanted to know the details about that, and thought it was better to take Jason's word for it. Something came to mind; he was wondering how they were able to find him. "That reminds me. How were you able to track me down both times?"

"Well," Jason said, looking at Rogue. "We had been looking into you almost all day. I'm sure you've heard about all the stories you've started, and we were looking to see how legitimate they were, more in the metaphysics surrounding it."

Warren had to smile. "Yeah, I can see that, so what _did_ you think?"

"We thought you were a mutant just like us," Rogue said, readjusting the icepack.

"Yeah. Considering that we're a team of mutants, it wasn't that much of a stretch of the imagination. The Professor was concerned that your actions, however well-intended, could expose mutantkind to the world."

Warren looked a little stung. "Well, there's the Fantastic Four and Spider-Man out there…"

"Which is a fair point," Jason said. "But they're mu _tates_ , people who had experienced a transformation from some outside source to become whom they are, as opposed to mutants who were born to be the way they are; mutates are merely tolerated because they're small in number. Even then, have you read the Daily Bugle? Spider-Man is like Harry Potter in _The Deathly Hallows_ : Undesirable Number One."

"Yeah, you're right," Warren said. "So how did you become an X-Man or whatever?"

"Well, skipping the unpleasant parts, the Professor found me in the hospital almost right after my mutant abilities developed and asked me, once I was out of the hospital of course and fully recovered, to join the Xavier Institute of Gifted Children to hone my abilities and be a part of something bigger, to use my gifts to eventually help humanity once they are ready."

Warren narrowed his eyes. "That sounds a lot like Magneto's spiel, and no offense, but it seems like everyone is suddenly out for me to join their little club or something."

Jason nodded graciously. "I can relate to that, but rest assured, believe it or not, we aren't anything like Magneto. Our goal isn't supremacy, but harmony and equality."

Rogue backed Jason up. "Yeah, it's not like that. In the end, we just want to fit into the rest of the world while doing good things with our abilities."

"However, we've learned from observance that we have to be reserved and careful with our abilities, because of mutant relations in other places in the world, the world is not ready to realize that there aren't just a few of us, but an entire multitude of us, so the Professor wants us to keep it under the radar until the time is right."

Warren recalled the bridge incident earlier that day, particularly how the public went from reverence to revulsion at the drop of a hat. "Huh, you're probably right about that."

"Rest assured, you did a pretty good job staying out of sight, but now people are asking too many questions, and that's not good for the rest of us. It sucks, but in the very least, the Professor has sent us to request that you lay low for now. He also extends an invitation for you to join us at the Institute, but unlike Magneto, we will understand if you say "no." This also isn't a one-time invitation. If you want to come later, we are more than welcoming to that. However, we do formally ask you to strongly reconsider your activities for now."

"Well, in the very least, I think my hero days are over after what happened on the bridge." Warren looked away, and saw that the family of the little girl he dropped into the river that Spider-Man saved for him was still there.

"Everyone has a bad day," Jason said. "I've had colossally bad days that I can't even talk about because they were that bad for me, but with a little training, I'm sure you'd be a grade-A X-Men if you decided to be."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence anyway," Warren said, despite the fact he still looked despondent.

A doctor entered the waiting room, and approached the mother and father of the girl from the bridge. The parents looked very anxious, and Warren watched the exchange like a hawk. The doctor said something unintelligible to Warren, but apparently it was good news because the parents looked much happier. The doctor led them away, and Warren quickly got up to follow them.

Jason and Rogue watched him go, and Rogue turned to Jason. "Do you think he will come with us?"

Jason shook his head. "I don't think so. He's discouraged from today. Once he shakes it off, maybe, but now? No."

Rogue looked after Warren. "I think you're right. What do you think we'll tell the Professor?"

"The truth," Jason said. "We delivered the message, and we did the job. The thing we fell short on was bringing Warren with us. We just tell him that."

While Jason and Rogue waited in the lobby, Warren had followed the girl's parents to her room, and found them inside. He waited just outside the door and listened in. The girl had just regained consciousness and seemed well on the road to recovery.

Her voice was still weak, but only tired. "I saw him, Mommy. He came to see me."

"Who did, honey?" the mother said.

"The angel at the bridge. He came to see if I was ok."

Warren had to will himself to not cry right there and then. Despite failing her, the girl still believed he tried his best. So in a sense, he did not fail her. He watched as the parents gathered around her and he decided to leave. As he did, he thought about what Jason and Rogue had said to him, and a little voice inside him suggested that he was indeed cut out for the hero business, however secretive he would have to be. In the very least, he would need more time to consider everything that's happened.

Eventually, he did rejoin Jason and Rogue in the lobby. "I…think I need to think about this. I'm the kind of person that just can't disappear from the public eye without some kind of scandal. I'm too high class to just vanish into the night, you understand."

Jason was informed by Professor Xavier that Warren was in fact among the top-class of New York society, and that they were always in the public eye. A disappearance of anyone with such a profile would be scandalous in the very least. "You're probably right about that."

"I need to figure this out, and there's a lot of red tape in that for me. In the very least, tell the Professor that I will think hard about this, but also tell him that I will retire for the time being. No more heroics. I'll leave them to Spider-Man."

Jason stood up. "Don't worry about it, Warren. If I can speak for the Professor, our door will be open should you decide to come." Jason offered a hand.

Warren took it. "In the very least, thanks for taking the time to help me and giving me an eye into the big picture. If you don't mind, is there any chance I can have a means to contact you all?"

Jason reached into his wallet. "Here's a number for the Institute. If you need us, just call."

Warren took the card. "Thanks, Jason. I'd better get back to Worthington Tower. It's luck that I haven't been recognized by anyone here yet, and I need to leave before that changes. I'll be in touch."

"Thank you, Warren."

Warren promptly left. Jason turned to Rogue. "How are you feeling?"

"Just a small headache."

"Well," Jason looked around. "It doesn't look like they're going to get to us anytime soon, so maybe we should sign a release if you're all right. We need to get home before it gets too icy outside, plus there's something I still need to do before tomorrow."

"Yeah," Rogue sat up. "Let's get it over with and get home already. I'm over today."

"Me too, Rogue." Jason sighed. "Me too. Don't know where Peter Parker went, but I'm kind of glad he didn't rejoin us. Made having to be vague and secretive not an issue."

"He was kind of a pain to have around."

"You're right," Jason said. "But I can't help but wonder if I know him from somewhere. He just reminds me of someone."

XXXXXXXXXX

Spider-Man was swinging his way home after dropping off his photos he had captured of Angel from the bridge—in his Peter Parker persona—and felt fulfilled. It seemed today that he met some possible allies in his fight for stability in New York once things were better with mutants, and that they were dependable after from what he had seen with their tussle with Magneto. As it stood right now, he was still alone in the battle for New York's people. The Fantastic Four were too involved in government work, and Iron Man was too uptown and usually too involved in his own projects to be dependable, and there was no one else…except possibly the X-Men.

That was something he would have to pursue later, because it was now nighttime and he needed to get home. He was your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, but he was also a seventeen-year-old boy who had to get home before curfew. When he arrived at his house in Queens, he landed as quietly as possible on the roof, crawled towards the window to his bedroom, quietly slid it open, slithered in and quickly and quietly exchanged his suit for more pedestrian clothing. Now presentable, he climbed down the stairs to see his aunt in the kitchen making Christmas treats. "Hey, Aunt May, I'm back!"

Aunt May turned around. "Peter! I didn't hear you come in!"

Peter looked sheepish. "It was a little late, so I didn't know if you were sleeping or not, so I kept quiet coming in."

"Well, how was your day?"

"Busy as usual, but it was quite an…angelic day in the end. So, what's for supper?"

XXXXXXXXXX

 _Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – December 24_ _th_ _, 2011 – 8:02 PM_

Piotr looked despondently out the window. It was Christmas Eve, and it looked like he was going to be stuck at the Institute for Christmas. It had been two years since he had been with his family, and while he was a little more positive over the fact that his family was safe from Magneto due to a sense of security Jason have given him, he was still sad that he was still cut off from his family. Jason had said he would try to talk to the Professor, but Piotr wasn't sure how successful he was.

Piotr looked at a sketchpad that had an exquisite charcoal sketch of the farmhouse his family had been in for generations. That farmland in central Siberia was where he discovered his power to steel up and become the best thing to happen to the group of farmers around him. It was also where he was approached by Magneto to save his family—his sister specifically—from sorrow in exchange for his services, which would herald almost two years of sorrow.

Despite being rescued by the X-Men earlier this year, and finding kinship in Jason, his roommate and best friend, Piotr still had a part in his heart that needed the relationship a family only could provide. In the very least, he just wanted to be able to know that they were ok. It hurt not knowing, and he didn't know how he could last another year without knowing.

The door opened, and Jason strode into the room, carrying a small wrapped parcel. "Hey, there you are!" Jason said, rather happily.

Jason somehow snapped Piotr out of his melancholy. "Hello…" he said slowly. "Are you not going to your family?"

"Yeah, soon, but I have something to do first. You and I are going on a little trip, and I need you to get dressed."

That stunned Piotr. "What?"

"You heard me, now get your coat on! It's going to be fucking cold where we're going."

Piotr stood up and looked for his heavy coat in his closet. "Where are we going?"

"You'll know when we get there. You'll need your Russian hat thing as well. What is that called again? The one with the ear flaps tied up?"

Piotr pulled out his large greatcoat and started putting it on. "My ushanka?"

"That's the one!" Jason said, pulling on a pair of thick overalls to cover his legs. "You'll have to hold on for me. I'm from the South so I have a harder time with the cold than most."

Piotr was thoroughly confused at Jason's behavior, but went along with it. Jason had gotten his boots back on and was slipping on his thick winter coat just as Piotr put on his ushanka. "I am ready, but where are we going?"

"You'll find out, so just hold onto your ushanka." Jason pulled on a beanie cap, his choice for ear warmth in cold weather. "Now, I think that's everything. Oh wait…" Jason espied the parcel he put down on the bed so he could get changed, and scooped it up. "There, that's it."

"Now are you telling me what is going on?" Piotr said, growing impatient.

"It's better if I show you, Peter, but let's just say that this is my Christmas present to you." Jason reached into his coat and pulled out the Amulet of Agamotto.

Piotr's eyes grew. "I thought you are not supposed to be using that if you are not going to be meeting Dr. Strange."

"After talking to the Professor, we thought this was the best way to go where we're going." Jason offered a hand. "Trust me, you're going to flip when you see where we're going."

Piotr sighed. "All right." He took Jason's hand.

Jason smiled impishly as he held up the Amulet of Agamotto. " _Peto locus!_ "

Piotr felt a jumping sensation, saw a flash of blue and a loud whooshing sound. The next thing he felt was a blast of cold air, silence of the very early and he could see the sunrise in the east. Piotr was thoroughly confused. "Where are we?"

Jason shivered, despite his precautions in his choices for winter wear. "You don't know?"

Piotr looked around at the snowy predawn-lit land, and he saw the houses and fields all in a winter slumber. His eyes slowly grew. "This is…this is…" He couldn't continue.

Jason walked up and pointed towards a nearby house. "That was your house, right?"

Piotr still couldn't believe it. "It is…" He saw that there was some dim lighting in the house. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Because you're overdue for some family time," Jason said, smiling.

"But—" Piotr's mind was beginning to work, despite his mouth rushing ahead. Jason had teleported him to his old farmhouse in the Ust-Ordynski Collective in Siberia, and had suggested something about family time. That would imply that his family was here, but the Professor had stated he had the family moved to an undisclosed location to prevent capture by Magneto. "But the Professor said—"

"He did," Jason said. "But that's what he wanted you to think, because he guessed that Magneto would foresee that the Professor would find a way to move the family to prevent retaliation on Magneto's part. If you were ever captured, you wouldn't have any idea where your family was so if Magneto tortured you, you couldn't divulge their location. It wasn't that that the Professor didn't trust you; he was willing to do whatever it took to make sure you were protected. The Professor also guessed that Magneto would assume the Professor wouldn't divulge the new location to you, so Magneto might be less tempted to capture you." Jason sighed. "Sadly, he underestimated the kind of grudge Magneto could carry, as shown when Mystique got you captured just a couple weeks ago.

"However, the Professor was able to guess that Magneto would never think to look back here to find your family. Best place to hide something is to hide it in the most obvious place. Remember in class we read _The Purloined Letter_ by Poe? It's the same deal: the most obvious place is the most unexpected place. So, they were here all along. There's still a risk of Magneto finding them, but after the events of Asteroid M, I think Magneto will think better than to keep looking for ways to get his revenge on you, because I'll be there waiting for him, and he now knows that. He messes with you, he messes with all of us."

Piotr looked back at Jason, and looked ready to cry. "I…I…"

Jason raised a hand. "You might want to reconsider crying. You'll get frostbite in your eyes."

Piotr choked a laugh, still unable to believe that this was all being given to him. "I am not knowing what to say…"

"You don't have to say anything, but there's more…" Jason handed Piotr the parcel. "It's a set of communicators. They used an encrypted algorithm to keep conversations private. One is for you, the other is for your family. So whenever you need to talk to them even after you come back to the Institute, you can. I know it's not the same, but it's something."

Piotr couldn't bear it anymore. He simply strode towards Jason and hugged him tightly. Tearfully, he managed to choke out. " _Spasibo bol'shoye, drug moi. Spasibo bol'shoye_!"

Now Jason had a hard time not crying. "Hey, you're welcome, man. You needed this."

Piotr held on for as long as he dared, and then reluctantly let go. "No one has ever done this much for me."

Jason had to swallow to make sure his own tears didn't flow. "It was my pleasure, Peter. Truth be told, I wouldn't do this for just anyone. You're my best friend, and you mean the world to me." Jason looked at the farmhouse and noticed that some lights were on more radiantly than before. "You'd better get going. I'll pick you up after sunrise here tomorrow. You have all of today to be with them as it should be on Christmas."

Piotr was about to turn to leave, but turned back. "Do you want to meet them?"

Jason shook his head. "This is your time, Peter. I'll just be in the way. Besides, I need to get to my own family. You need to spend time with them. Maybe some other time I can meet them. If they raised a son like you, they have to be amazing, but for now, this is for you and you alone."

Piotr nodded. "I understand. Thank you so much, comrade…"

"It will always be my pleasure, Peter." Jason took a step back, although Piotr could tell he didn't want to. "Well, I got to go. I'll see you tomorrow."

" _Proshchay, moy drug_ ," Piotr said.

Jason nodded, and he held up the Amulet. " _Peto locus_."

Piotr watch Jason disappear in a flash of blue smoke. Now alone, he looked at his old farmhouse. He strode towards him, growing apprehensive. It had been two long years, and he wondered how much has changed. He reached the door, and slowly raised his hand to know. He knocked weakly, hoping he didn't wake them. He heard people stir inside the house, and the familiar voice of his father wondering who was at the door at this hour. The door opened, and he saw his mother look at him, a greeting evaporating instantly from her lips. Piotr tried not to cry as he said, " _Zdravstvuy, mama_."

The woman grabbed Piotr in a hug. " _Moy Piotr_!" she bawled.

Piotr even started crying. "I am home…" he said.

His father came to the door, and despite his rough exterior, he looked like he was going to break as well. "My son!" He said in Russian. "Welcome home!"

"We thought we lost you!" His mother chided him, also in Russian. "Why did you not try to contact us?"

"I did not know where you were," Piotr said tearfully. "I am sorry, papa."

"No matter," his father said. "My boy is back and that is all that matters.

"How is Illyana?" Piotr asked tentatively.

"After she returned to us, she is better than ever. Whatever she was given, it has helped her. She is walking a lot more now, but misses her brother."

Piotr was relieved. Magneto at least kept his word on that.

"She will be so happy; she is still sleeping." His father turned to his mother. "Mama, let Piotr in before he freezes."

His mother finally let go, although reluctantly. "How did you get here?"

Before stepping in, Piotr looked at the place Jason had dropped him off. "An angel brought me here."

XXXXXXXXXX

Logan was in a small seedy bar, playing a solo game of pool as the time ticked down for Christmas Eve. He didn't celebrate Christmas, and he hadn't for years. In fact, Christmas had been something of a melancholy time of year for him since he far outlived his own family, and that around this time of the year, back during the War, he had often had a little tradition to play a game with war comrades, particularly one Steve Rogers.

Steve Rogers used to be a scrawny kid, but after being chosen as a prime candidate in the Super Soldier program called Operation Rebirth during World War II, he became a living legend: Captain America. They became mutual friends in the war, especially since they were both as tough as angry wolverines, and fought just as ferociously. They had many campaigns together as the Invaders, and was even there when Rogers lost his best friend, Bucky Barnes.

Rogers was lost to them after one last campaign that he insisted on doing himself, but Logan tagged along anyway. They both managed to stop a rogue Nazi group led by a Baron Zemo, but not before Zemo launched a missile. Rogers piloted a craft fast enough to catch up with the missile, and that was the last Logan saw of him. According to reports, Rogers had successfully disarmed the missile but fell into the freezing waters of the Arctic. They never found his body.

Every year about this time, Logan would play pool in a bar of choice as a tradition because he and Rogers used to play it, and they were both equally good at it, as either one lost as many games as they won. Logan wiped the table once again, and took a drink of beer. Each year was just like the last, and just like the old soldier he was, he honored his fallen comrades his way. Silently, he raised a toast to the fallen.

XXXXXXXXXX

 _Downs' residence – Red Rock, Oklahoma – 7:23 PM_

Jason reappeared on the sidewalk in front of his family's house, feeling a plethora of emotions after dropping off his best friend back with his family in Siberia. He knew that Piotr needed this, but a part of him was afraid that Piotr wouldn't ever want to leave now that he knew his family was there. That was a risk he knew that he needed to talk, plus it was selfish of him to not act based on that risk. Piotr needed this to get full closure, and perhaps, with a little luck, Piotr would come back to the Institute and be fully committed. Jason didn't want to think about what would happen if Piotr decided to remain in Russia after all of this, but he knew that if Piotr decided to stay, he would respect that wish, because that's what friends do: support each other.

Deep down though, Jason desperately hoped to whomever was listening that Piotr would return. Back in Asteroid M, he realized that Piotr was more than just a friend to him. The revelation was jarring enough, but Jason knew that his feelings were real, and that was all he knew. He felt like revealing his feelings for Piotr to him earlier, but he felt that it wasn't the time with what Piotr was looking forward to. For now, Jason would just have to temper his feelings until later. He still wasn't sure how to tell Piotr anyway.

He would figure that out later, for right now, he needed to stop standing outside his own house like an idiot and join his family for Christmas. He walked towards the door and rang the doorbell. In less than a minute, his Grandma Denise answered the door. "Jason, you know better than to ask for permission to enter your own house!"

Jason smiled. "Sue me, I'm good-mannered."

"And that you should be! Now come on in!"

Jason entered the house and was nearly ambushed by his five-year-old sister, Beth. "Big brother, you're back!"

His adoptive mother and father saw that their son had arrived. "It's so good to see you again, son!" his father said. "Grades going well?"

"As well as they should be; it's not easy juggling normal life with you-know-what."

"Come on and have dinner with us!" his mother said. "We were waiting for you! I thought you were coming a little earlier."

"Sorry; I got tied up, but I'm here now, and I hope that's tuna casserole I smell!"

Everyone started to sit down around the table to take part in a scrumptious Christmas Eve dinner. Jason was happy to be among family, and he was happy that he was able to change someone else's life tonight. "I know I'm not the religious type, and I know I'm going to sound so dorky saying this, but…God bless us, everyone. Merry Christmas."

XXXXXXXXXX

Back at the Institute, the Professor and Mr. McCoy shared a toast of hot chocolate next to the fireplace. It was another eventful year, and despite mistakes and failures, they wouldn't change a thing of it.

"Merry Christmas, Hank," the Professor said.

"Merry Christmas, Charles," Hank wished back.

"And to another good year, whatever challenges may come."

"And may the year to come bear its share of blessings as well."

"Indeed."

The season of Christmas is the promise of new beginnings, despite whatever may befall. For all of the X-Men here and abroad, a new year was coming and new beginnings promised new blessings and challenges. Whatever may befall, the X-Men would be ready, and this the Professor knew. For now, it was a time to count one's blessings, and spread peace on earth and goodwill to all men, human and mutant alike.

XXXXXXXXXX

 _I can't even begin to apologize for this delay. This last year has been incredibly hard on me, particularly after the election. I've lost family due to political affiliations and my job has been tumultuous. That being said, I'm also back in school as well as making time for my original novel. It's been a very busy and crazy year, but I hope to keep pushing through. I also lost my computer to a virus and had to stick to my iPad which I couldn't take with me most places as I found out._

 _Thankfully, I have a new computer now as a part of school and I hope to keep pushing on. As this chapter is about Christmas, it's a promise that despite what befell me this year, I'm still here and I'm keeping on pushing. Speaking of, here's what is coming next:_

 _Tabitha is getting on everyone's nerves with her devil-may-care nature, and it's compromising the function of the team. After a mess of a performance, she even is now plagued by family ties she hoped that would remain severed. After she is convinced by her father to help, the X-Men must now act fast to prevent Tabitha from sinking into big trouble. See more in_ _ **Chapter 3: Boom-Boom**_ _!_


	4. Chapter 3: Boom-Boom

**CHAPTER 3:** **Boom-Boom**

* * *

 _Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – January 9_ _th_ _, 2012 – 7:02 AM_

"I don't know but I've been told!" chanted Scott.

"I don't know but I've been told!" echoed the rest of his team behind him.

"Winter air is mighty cold!" chanted Scott.

"Winter air is mighty cold!" echoed the rest of the team.

"I don't know but it's been said!"

"I don't know but it's been said!"

"I don't miss my soft warm bed!"

"I don't miss my soft warm bed!" There were a few chortles that were barely contained at that lyric.

As Scott continued to lead the rest of the X-Men in his modified Air Force chant, they ran along the shoreline of the bay in winter running gear. Scott led the pack with Jean, her red weaves of hair tied back this time, right behind. Jason and Kurt were right behind them with Piotr just behind him with Kitty making up the rear.

It had been less than two weeks since the X-Men reconvened back at the Xavier Institute after a brief holiday reprieve, and despite looking forward to constant training under Logan, Jason was more than happy to see that Piotr had elected to stay at the Institute, and was definitely much happier knowing his family was safe and reachable. As the year drew to a close, Jason and Piotr were nigh inseparable, and the Professor was glad to see that both had seemed to heal very well from the year's trials, none more so than Jason.

Now it was a week after the New Year, and the second term of school was looming. To make the tension of how midterms turned out even bigger, Scott thought this was a great time for a morning run along the bayside, even though it was only twenty-five degrees outside, and the bayside wind wasn't helping. The sun had not risen yet, but a small speck of dawn was visible on the horizon.

Finally, the run ended back at the bluffs upon which the Institute was crowned, and

many of the X-Men were grateful, particularly Piotr and Kitty. Kitty voiced her exhaustion right away. "Didn't I like say how much I didn't like running in nature?"

Jason was panting, but not as hard. "It wasn't as bad as back at Ironback."

Even Piotr was winded. "I am still not good enough to run…"

Jason was at Piotr's side at once. "It truly takes a while to get one's lungs to get acclimated to aerobic exercise. It took me a long time as well. You just got to keep on with the treadmill."

Piotr felt better about that. He just needed to put the same effort into aerobic exercise as he did in his weights.

Before all of them fully got their breath back, Logan strode up to them. "You all planning to suck up all the air at the beach or are you going to join us for the New Mutants training?"

Scott was all business. "We'll be right there, Logan."

"Then get moving!" Logan said, turning away.

Jason sighed. "New year and some things will never change. We'd better get going."

Kitty stood up straighter. "Aren't we just playing a supervisor role in their exercise?"

Jean said. "Yeah, but this is the rescue simulation, and that requires a lot of spotters."

"Oh yeah."

Jason stood up. "Well, let's just hope they take this seriously…this time."

"You _do_ realize who you're like talking about, right, Jason?" Kitty said.

Jason pursed his lips. "Yeah…"

In due process, the team met the New Mutants in the Danger Room, and the environment they were going to be tested in today was already preloaded, and Alchemist saw with mild apprehension that it was the cliff rescue simulation, which was among the more perilous rescue simulations. Nightcrawler was drafted to be the "victim" that needed rescuing, and therefore he was waiting on a ledge about halfway down the cliff face. Cyclops would be coordinating the rescue effort as well as chief supervisor from the cliff. Alchemist and Colossus, being the strongest and most athletic of the group left, would act as belayers for the stretcher apparatus, while Marvel Girl and Shadowcat were watching from below, ready in case something went horribly wrong. Storm hovered opposite them all, watching the rescue operations very closely, acting as judge for each rescue. Wolverine waited topside, making sure things went according to plan.

When everyone was in their places, Cyclops repelled off of the top and found an "unconscious" Kurt half-buried under a modest pile of debris. "Confirmed: victim is approximate twenty meters down and unconscious," Cyclops reported into his earpiece.

"And starving," Nightcrawler quipped, noting his grumbling stomach. "The victim requests a speedy rescue so he may eat his breakfast."

"Quiet, Kurt!" Cyclops hissed, and then continued in the speaker. "Boom-Boom, recommend taking it slow and easy on the approach."

Nightcrawler's eyes bulged open. "Boom-Boom?! You chose to put my life in the hands of a lunatic?!"

Cyclops ignored Nightcrawler, but didn't get a response from Boom-Boom. "Boom-Boom, do you copy?"

Wolverine noticed the delay, and looked around. He immediately spotted Boom-Boom, and scowled as she was listening to her iPod at full blast through her earbuds. While the rest of the New Mutants adjusted the stretcher, Wolverine walked right up to Boom-Boom. Lifting one earbud out of her ear, he loudly cleared his throat.

Boom-Boom started up, and looked at Wolverine. "What is it?"

"Why aren't you wearing your comm link, kid?" He growled.

Boom-Boom didn't look the slightest abashed. "Oh, I must have put in the wrong headphones by mistake." It was a lame excuse, but that didn't bother her. "No big deal. Am I up?"

Wolverine sighed, which sounded more like a growl. "Get over there and finish your job, kid."

Boom-Boom saluted and swished her away around Wolverine and towards the rest of the group.

Colossus had seen Boom-Boom's behavior and looked at Alchemist. "Should I be feeling concerned?"

Alchemist had his back towards Wolverine's and Boom-Boom's exchange, but he knew that Boom-Boom was first up. "That's why we're here, Peter: to make sure things don't go wrong. Let's give Tabitha a chance. Sure, she's fun-loving and a little rambunctious, but we should trust her enough to act properly when the chips are on the table."

"All right, it's my turn!" came Boom-Boom's infectiously energetic cries. "Let's sling down there and rescue our furry wonder boy so we can get back to having fun, woo!"

Alchemist visibly winced. "Then again, maybe we should hang on tight."

Colossus gulped and steeled up at once.

The New Mutants had just barely lined up the stretcher on the platform when Boom-Boom came red hot on the scene like a firework. She practically jumped in, using her momentum to go right over the edge. Alchemist and Colossus hung on tight as Boom-Boom dropped out of view.

"Look out, world! Boom-Boom is dropping in and the forecast is _explosive_! Woohoo!"

Alchemist looked like he had tasted a sour grape, and Colossus kept looking at him, wondering what to do. None were nearly as uncomfortable as Nightcrawler. When he heard Boom-Boom's bellows, he sighed resignedly to himself. "I'm going to die…"

Cyclops couldn't disagree with that sentiment, and watched with a sinking stone in his stomach as Boom-Boom carelessly swung down on the stretcher. She came to a stop level with Nightcrawler's ledge. "Hey, cutie! How's it hanging?"

Nightcrawler looked at Boom-Boom. "I have to know: are you insane?"

Boom-Boom giggled and pinched Nightcrawler's cheek. "You wouldn't be the first to ask."

"His codename is Nightcrawler," Cyclops said. "And he's _unconscious_?"

"Oh, right," Nightcrawler lay back down and closed his eyes.

Boom-Boom's glossed over the pile of debris. "Well, first thing's first: let's blow away the rocks!" She formed a small charge right in her hands and tucked it inside the debris pile. "Fire in the hole!"

Nightcrawler flinched and covered his head. A blast of rocks shattered the debris pile, and despite covering Nightcrawler in dust, he was unharmed.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" Boom-Boom said, grinning ear to ear. "Now on you go!" She reached over with her free leg and dragged Nightcrawler right onto the stretcher clumsily.

"Hey, I'm an injured victim, not a pile of sticks!"

Boom-Boom merely looked down at Nightcrawler. "Hmm, I'm not really feeling your name; it doesn't work for a cutie like you. What do you think of 'Wild Blue Yonder Boy'?"

Nightcrawler moaned. "You _are_ insane, aren't you?"

"Enough, you two!" Cyclops barked. "Let's get Nightcrawler topside so we can move on to the next one!"

"Right-o, Goggle-boy!" Boom-Boom looked up. "Hey, Badger! Let her rip!"

"It's 'Wolverine'!" Wolverine growled. He looked at Alchemist and Colossus. "Scarface, Russkie, pull them up!"

"And not a moment too soon," Alchemist quipped, and started pulling. Colossus pulled, making sure to keep the same pace as Alchemist.

They were about ten meters up, when Nightcrawler decided to prove a point. He stealthily rolled over and off the stretcher, falling below. Boom-Boom felt the weight shift and saw Nightcrawler fall over. Gasping in horror, she couldn't move fast enough to stop him. A second later, a flash of brimstone heralded Nightcrawler's return.

"You forgot to strap me in!" Nightcrawler chided playfully. "Ten points from Hufflepuff, _fraulein_!"

A freshly recovered Boom-Boom looked at Nightcrawler mischievously. "Is that so?"

Cyclops felt his heart turn into stone. "Oh no…"

"What will _these_ cost me?" Boom-Boom created a few more charges, and started hurling them at the cliff wall.

"Hey, knock it off!" Wolverine snarled.

The stretcher started rocking back and forth like a pendulum, and Alchemist and Colossus struggled to keep control. "What the fuck is she doing?!" Alchemist said, gritting his teeth.

Disaster struck in the form of a stray charge, blasting a piece of the cliff side off, sending a sizeable piece flying right into Nightcrawler's unprotected head. Stunned, he fell off the stretcher and fell like a stone.

Boom-Boom looked down. "Hey, stop goofing around, you big fuzzball!"

There was no response from Nightcrawler, and down below, Marvel Girl and Shadowcat saw the whole thing. "Kurt!" Shadowcat screamed in spite of herself.

Marvel Girl quickly caught Nightcrawler's falling form in a telekinetic field and slowed his descent. Back up top, Alchemist and Colossus heard Shadowcat and froze. "What just happened?" Alchemist asked, his eyes large.

Wolverine looked down to see Marvel Girl carrying Nightcrawler up the cliff with her powers, and Cyclops quickly climbed up the cliff to assess the damage. He reached the top before Marvel Girl did. "Alchemist, Colossus, get Boom-Boom back up here."

Alchemist and Colossus looked at each other, but wordlessly obeyed. Finally, Marvel Girl appeared from over the cliff with a stunned Nightcrawler in her grasp. Cyclops quickly took Nightcrawler from her just as Boom-Boom reappeared on the top of the cliff. "Uh…," Boom-Boom started, but only managed an "oops?"

Alchemist and Cyclops looked livid, but was cut off by Storm. "This exercise is over. Cyclops, get Nightcrawler to the infirmary, while I inform the Professor of the events. Boom-Boom?"

Boom-Boom suppressed a flinch.

"Report to the infirmary immediately." Each syllable was laced with the smallest of ice, and Alchemist gulped. He rarely saw Storm angry, and she was furious. "The rest of you, hit the showers, and get ready for school."

As the rest of the students dispersed, the environment melted away into the half-globe that was the Danger Room. Alchemist and Colossus undid themselves from the ropes they were holding. "Well, that was fun," Jason said sarcastically.

"I disagree," Piotr said.

"No no, I wasn't serious. When I said that it was fun, I really meant that it wasn't. It's sarcasm."

"Oh, I see," Piotr nodded.

"Just one of the nuances of language," Jason pursed his lips as he continued to unwind the ropes. "Seriously though, what the hell was that? I honestly expected a lot more of her!" Jason tossed the rope aside a little more forcefully than he intended.

"I am not liking this," Piotr said. "She should be knowing better."

"I think she does, and that's part of the problem. She doesn't seem to care about keeping it serious when she has to. Not to be critical of the Professor, but I think bringing her here was a mistake."

Piotr looked a little surprised at Jason, but even he thought that Tabitha's behavior was completely unacceptable. "Do you think so?"

"I'm not one to make that judgment, but unless she sobers up soon, I don't think she'll be here that much longer."

XXXXXXXXXX

"To be honest, I'm shocked and surprised at both of you," the Professor started. He had arrived at the infirmary, and after Kurt had come too and Mr. McCoy had assured the Professor that no damage was done, the Professor grew stern. "The Danger Room exercises are not a time to be playing around. They are training for very real circumstances that may befall us in the real world. Had this happened in a less controlled setting, one or more of you all could have been seriously injured, or worse, killed."

Kurt wilted at the lecture, while Tabitha seemed less receptive and more dismissive to it.

"When I brought you here, it was under the understanding that it was so both of you would learn to use your powers responsibly, and if you cannot be counted on to do so, I'm afraid there must be consequences. Therefore, Kurt, Tabitha, for two weeks, you are confined to the Institute grounds outside of school. You are forbidden to use your powers outside of training regiments as well. In addition, you will also be required to attend two training exercises per day with Logan, including the weekends."

"But—!" Tabitha began.

"You will serve your penances, Tabitha. There is no discussion on the matter. You've fallen out of favor with your teammates who can't count on you to use your powers properly, so until you can garnish that dependability, you will serve your penalties. Am I clear?"

Tabitha looked ready to pop, but Kurt quickly intervened. "Yes, Professor. We understand."

"Good," the Professor said, turning away. "In the meantime, get ready for school. Should you two be late for school, further penalties may be sanctioned."

Kurt shot a warning look at Tabitha, who looked ready to tell the Professor everything on her mind. "Understood."

The Professor, as well as everyone else beside the guilty pair, left the infirmary. Once the door was safely shut, Tabitha cut loose. "This is so not fair!"

Kurt admonishingly looked at Tabitha. "Hey, we goofed off and nearly got hurt. If anything, we got lucky. If our friends weren't there, it could have been worse."

"Oh, come on, Wonder Boy! Everyone around here is taking this _way_ too seriously! We were perfectly safe!"

"But—"

Tabitha looked at her watch. "Whoops! We'd better run before everyone else eats everything else! Come on! If I had to choose being late for school or breakfast, I'd rather not choose breakfast! Let's go!" Tabitha was out the door in an instant.

Kurt could only sigh. On one hand, Tabitha's spunk was infectious, and her spirit was fun and exciting. Kurt never got to do half the things she did because of how he looked, and Tabitha seemed one of the few people that really enjoyed how Kurt looked, finding it cooler than anything. If only he could be as spunky as she was. On the other hand, her carefree attitude was dangerous and reckless, and could head to nothing but trouble.

Well, she was right about one thing: he'd better move and get breakfast. Even if he detoured to get a Burger Bomb, he didn't want to be late again for school and suffer another penalty.

XXXXXXXXXX

 _Former Bayville Boarding House – 8:26 AM_

On the outskirts of Bayville stood a dilapidated house that was formerly used as a boarding house, but was left to rot for decades now. In fact, no one would go near the place because it smelled of rotting food, looked like it was ready to fall at any moment, and likely had more termites than wood. It was condemned years ago, but tearing it down was not currently "in the budget" for Bayville. Therefore, it just sat as a rotting example of a failed business.

It was the perfect place for a group of misfits like the Brotherhood boys would stay out of sight and out of mind. In the kitchen, Todd Tolanski was busy helping himself to a gourmet of houseflies and gnats that seemed like a permanent cloud over a trashcan. To someone as odious as one called "Toad," a place like this seemed to cover up his own body stench. "The place may be trash, but the eatin's still good," he said to himself. "My kind of place."

There was a blast of wind, which scattered the flies. "Hey! That's my breakfast!"

The blast of wind was unrepentant as it swept from cupboard to the next looking for anything to eat. Finally, it stopped, revealing the form of Pietro Maximoff. "What gives?! The cupboards are bare _and_ falling apart!" Seemingly to make the point, a door fell right off the cupboard. Pietro was swift of foot and faster of mouth, sometimes to the point of intelligibility, earning him the alter-name "Quicksilver."

A large bulbous man walked right into the room. "Yeah, man! What's with this cheap dump anyway?" Fred Dukes was a massive man, but also very strong and nigh immoveable, as his mutant ability gave him a sense of personal gravity, rooting him right to a spot he chose to. His size and stature earned him the "Blob" moniker. Among these three as well as one other, they were the Brotherhood of Mutants, or rather what was left of them. After the destruction of Asteroid M, there was no word from Mystique or Magneto. Leaderless and without a cause, they were just a gang of misfits that no one could take seriously anymore.

Todd hopped down, every bit like his Toad persona, and looked up at Fred. "You know what we need? A wad of cash, and I know just where to find some! Wait here!" He hopped out of the kitchen, into the hall and up the stairs, right past Lance Alvers, also known as the seismic Avalanche, who was walking down the stairs with his backpack. Todd disappeared right around the corner, and smashed into a solid oak door. The door withstood his assault, and Toad came rolling down the stairs, dazed. Shaking himself out of it, he growled, and tried again.

Pietro, Lance and Fred looked on as Todd tried again, and again, and again with predictable results. "Even I would have stopped at this point," Fred said.

"Me too; at least I won't have a headache," Pietro shook his head.

Fred approached the stairs, just as an increasingly dazed Todd tumbled down the stairs. Fred caught him before he made it back down.

Todd sounded a little groggy. "That door must be made of adamantium or something…," he moaned.

"Knock it off, Todd," Fred said. "Not that I like you or nothing, but you're going to hurt yourself."

"Even then, what do you think Mystique is going to do to you when she finds out you were in her room, Toad?" Pietro glowered at Todd.

"She ain't coming back, yo!" Todd said. "Which is why it's a great idea that Fred could just pull the door down!"

"No thanks!" Fred said. "Mystique will kill me, and she knows how…"

Lance shook his head. "Well, while _you_ guys talk this one out, _I'm_ going to school. At least there's food there."

Lance opened the door and walked out. Fred, Pietro and Todd looked on after him. "He's right!" Fred said. "I can't stand waiting around here anymore, and I wanna eat! I'm coming too!"

Fred dropped Todd, right on his head, and walked after Lance. Todd shook himself out. "Me too, for my own safety!"

Pietro scoffed. "Bunch of wimps. The only reason I'm going with you is because I want to eat too. This place is such a dump."

XXXXXXXXXX

 _Bayville High School – 8:37 AM_

Jason and Piotr were sitting in the bleachers inside the basketball court. A week before, they were notified that there would be a start-of-semester rally regarding changes at the school. While no one had any idea what it meant, the Professor thought it best they would be there on time, especially if they wanted to stay in the good graces of the school board. The rest of the X-Men were scattered around the gymnasium, and he thought he even saw the Brotherhood boys as well, standing along the wall near the entrance. He half-hoped they wouldn't be here for this semester, but he reasoned that he could deal with them again if he had too. They were probably still licking their wounds from last time.

Piotr sighed. "I am wondering how we did for our midterms."

"Me too," Jason said. "I'd like this rally to get over with so I can focus on doing better _this_ semester. I'm not saying I did badly, but I'd rather know how I'm doing so I can see where I need to study for finals, because odds are finals will cover _both_ semesters."

Piotr looked disturbed. "You are right. I did not think about that."

"Don't worry about it too much. I think we did well enough that we're pretty solid. If we have to, we'll just come up with something stronger for this semester. At least we got friends to help us out."

" _Da_ , that is true…"

"Speaking of, I haven't seen Jean-Paul yet. I'm sure he's around here somewhere."

"My ears are burning!" came an enthusiastic voice.

Jason put his head in his hand. "Me and my big mouth."

Jean-Paul managed to squeeze his lithe frame right in between Jason and Piotr, and Jason was annoyed at that. Even Piotr didn't seem that appreciative. Jean-Paul seemed oblivious to the tension. "You know what they say about big mouths?"

"I know what they say about _yours_ ," Jason quickly replied.

"Ooh, cut by my own shade!" Jean-Paul said. "You're getting good at this…"

Jason rolled his eyes.

"So, how was the holiday?"

Jason took the time to choose his words carefully. "Well, didn't do that much besides going to visit my family for the holiday. That's about it."

Jean-Paul rounded on Piotr. "And you?"

Piotr looked strangely wistful. "I got to see my family too." That's all he would say.

Jason snuck a glance at Piotr. They had talked about Piotr's reunion with his family after he got back, and Piotr was more thankful and happy than Jason had ever seen him. Despite picking him up shortly after sunrise, it was nighttime when they teleported back to the Institute, and Piotr could barely sleep, so they stayed up and talked through a lot of their respective holiday experiences, until Jason finally fell asleep from exhaustion. It had taken Piotr a week to reconfigure his biological clock from that.

"Well, since you too don't seem up to sharing, how about I tell you about my holiday…"

Jason and Piotr could only sigh.

While Jean-Paul described his holiday ventures in milked detail, a few rows behind them sat Scott who was sitting with his friend, Paul. Scott was keeping an eye out for a familiar figure to step into the gymnasium, but wasn't having much luck as he was having to divide his attention between both entrances on opposite sides of the room.

He suddenly felt an elbow in his side from Paul. Looking his way, he saw Paul point towards a fresh arrival, and Scott smiled. Jean had just stepped in and was apparently trying to find someone familiar to sit with. Scott leaped to his feet, almost a little too enthusiastically, and waved towards Jean. Jean looked his direction, and seemed to spot him. Scott was thrilled…until he saw that between him and Jean was Duncan, Jean's boyfriend. Duncan had also stood up so Jean could see where he was. Deflated, Scott sat back down.

"Tough luck, man," Paul said.

"Yeah," Scott sighed.

Elsewhere, the Brotherhood boys did not seem to want to take a seat and just lazily watched everyone else dutifully find space. Todd was trying to get a pesky fly that seemed faster than he was. After several failed attempts, Todd voiced his frustrations. "Man, this bombs, yo! Even the flies think they're better than us!"

"Why did we come here again?" Fred said. His stomach growled in answer. "Oh yeah, I forgot."

"Well, I know why _Lance_ is here," Pietro sneered. "And it ain't the food. He wants to get a certain Kitty in a tree, K-I-S-S-I—Whoopsie!" In perhaps the fastest side-step in school history, Pietro dodged an angry Lance's arm.

While the boys were chortling at Lance, Rogue walked past them, deliberately avoiding looking at them. She was hoping to find an open spot where she could just disappear into the crowd as normal, but apparently, she was late to the party and didn't see one right away. Still, Rogue wasn't anything if not persistent. She kept walking.

"Excuse me!" came a voice.

She looked to see that someone had spotted her. Rogue's first impulse was to ignore and keep walking, but this girl wasn't so different from her: streaked hair with purple in it, dark clothing and pale skin, although not as pale as Rogue's. She also was holding a book that Rogue had read herself leisurely last semester. Rogue was a little taken aback; how had she never noticed someone with the same sense of style and similar tastes as her? She couldn't help herself. "Yeah?"

"Do you know how long these assembly's last?" She spoke with a clear British dialect.

"Oh," Rogue started. "Well, a little too long, but they do get us out of class."

The girl laughed. "That's true; I guess I should be thankful. Hey, want to sit with me? I'm not waiting for anyone."

Rogue felt the impulse to leave, but it was quieter this time. "Sure." Rogue sat down to the girl's right.

"Thank you. Speaking of classes, mine should be…" The girl looked at a sheet of paper that Rogue recognized as the class schedule. It was a little hard to decipher if one was alien to it.

"Oh, you're in my class! Geometry with Mr. Barton."

"Oh, that's a relief. I wasn't making any front or end with this."

"It can be a little difficult if you're not familiar with it. You must be new!"

"Was I that obvious?" the girl smiled. "I'm Risty, Risty Wilde from England. I transferred here over the holiday."

"Pleased to meet you. Everyone just calls me Rogue, so you can call me that as well."

"If you insist," Risty said. "But that's not your real name, is it?"

Rogue frowned. "It isn't, but I'm not really comfortable giving it out."

"That's ok, then," Risty said. "It's not that important."

Rogue smiled, slightly relieved. "Well, after the rally, I can take you to class. Understanding the schedule is just one half, finding the classroom is another. Trust me on this."

"Well, I'd rather not start off the semester on a bad foot, so thank you!"

As Rogue and Misty continued to talk, Lance was looking around the auditorium and soon spotted Kitty Pride sitting in the front row. Smiling, he left his friends without another word.

"Uh oh, there he goes!" Pietro chortled.

Kitty was minding her own business when somebody leaned in over her shoulder. "Hey, how was your vacation, Pretty Kitty?"

Kitty looked balefully at Lance. "Oh look, it's the walking Richter Scale. Shouldn't you be striking annoyance into Californians' hearts or something?"

Lance frowned, and was aware that his Brotherhood friends were laughing at him.

Before he could say anything, someone from the board stepped up to the podium. The rally was about to start. "Thank you all for coming! We will try to keep this assembly brief so you can get back to your classes. First of all, I'm sorry to say that Principal Darkhölme has stepped down for personal reasons over the course of Winter Break. To serve the remainder of her term, the board has called upon Mr. Edward Kelly to fill in her spot. I hope that each and every one of you will make him feel welcome to Bayville High."

There was a modest applause as Mr. Kelly came forward. Among those who knew whom Ms. Darkhölme was, they looked at each other. There had been no sign of Mystique since the fall of Asteroid M, and they were somewhat surprised that she decided to stay gone.

"Thank you, all," said Mr. Kelly, a man in his late thirties with light brown hair streaked with grey, and his friendly eyes framed by glasses. "Now I know that it will be quite the challenge to fill in the shoes that Ms. Darkhölme left, but I intend to do my best and rise up to the challenge. Rest assured, Ms. Darkhölme was a fantastic principal of this high school and she will be missed."

In his seat, Jason looked at Piotr. "At least someone will."

A corner of Piotr's mouth moved in agreement.

"Speaking of rising to meet new challenges, that what I hope becomes the theme of this high school: taking on new challenges. As I'm sure you all know, high school is merely a rite of passage into adulthood, and throughout your time here, you will find all sorts of challenges to conquer. Rest assured, each one can be conquered, albeit some easier than others.

"One challenge that I'm sure all of us have faced here is the perception that we aren't so different from anyone else, and the challenge is just to find our place within the status quo. Well, you'll have to forgive me if I find that challenge ludicrous. In fact, I'll wager that there is a complete spectrum of people here each with their own strengths and weaknesses. I see students of every nationality here, but what makes us special isn't limited to our origins: it could be our circumstances that have impacted our lives, or even our own identities. Some of us have talents that surpass our own peers, like in sports, music, art or even something completely different. Some of us may have suffered through great hardship, or find themselves like outsiders. Whatever or whomever you are, know that you are a big part of what makes our school the best in New York: we are a diverse school, and we welcome anyone within our walls. I invite you to embrace yourselves whatever what anyone says about you, because in the end, the only opinion that matters to you is your own.

"That is my challenge to you to make your first priority: embracing who you are, because that's not only what makes our school great; it's what makes our nation and our world great, despite any naysayers out there. As for your _second_ priority, I encourage you to show your support for your fellow students as we gear up to begin our basketball season! We've had a spectacular football season, and now we want a spectacular basketball season! We all are the Bayville Hawks and I expect all of you to show your Hawk Pride each and every game!"

An applause, louder than before, answered Principal Kelly. He beamed at the response. "That's definitely a great start! Now, moving on, I also expect you all to show support for our community as we hold a fundraiser for our new community center in Bayville at the Sunland's Fun Center this weekend!"

An even bigger applause answered.

"Thank you all for coming! Now let's get this semester started! Have a great rest of the year!"

Another applause coupled by the bustle of students getting up to leave filled the room. Jason, Jean-Paul and Piotr stood up. "Well, I can't say I was expecting the first school assembly to turn into a pep rally," Jason said.

"No kidding," Jean-Paul said. "I think I'm going to like the new principal. Never had problems with the last one, but he's…different, you know?"

"I get you," Jason said. "Well, I need to get to Algebra II class. I'm anxious to see how I did."

"Better than me anyway. You can keep your math."

Piotr smiled. "I am sure you are doing fine, Jean-Paul."

"Oh yeah? I still remember the way you guys looked after American Lit."

Now Jason and Piotr looked unnerved. "You _had_ to bring that one up, didn't you?"

"My pleasure! Byesies!" Jean-Paul left the two alone.

"We'd better get going. I need to get to my class and I know you have English this time of day. I'll see you in World History, ok?"

" _Da_ ," Piotr said. "Good luck, comrade."

"You too."

XXXXXXXXXX

 _An hour later…_

Principal Kelly had seemed to acclimate to the office quite well, and was already knee deep in administrative duties. He felt he had a lot to live up to since it seemed to be his family legacy to make policy, big or small. His brother, Robert Kelly, was a U.S. Senator for Kansas. As the younger brother, he was often butting heads with his brother about how to run things, and while Senator Kelly was more conservative, Edward Kelly preferred a more moderate approach, the best of both worlds: malleability and stability. After all, it doesn't take much for the world to change. If that meant his place was running a school in the melting pot of the nation, then that's just one small way to make an impact on lives.

He pressed a button on the intercom. "Ms. Gale?"

There was a buzz, and his assistant's voice came through. _"Yes, Mr. Kelly?"_

"Give me the files of our students that came to us through our partnership with the Xavier Institute, as well as the files for our new enrollees this and last semester."

" _Yes, Mr. Kelly."_

"One more thing. I've been asked by the staff at the new community center to store any earnings from the fundraiser here at the school as they don't have a secure enough space yet. Would you please make sure that every hour, all funds are delivered to the vault behind you?"

" _Yes, Mr. Kelly."_

It was only a minute when the assistant came in with a small armload of file. "Here they are, Mr. Kelly."

"Thank you, Ms. Gale. You may leave them on the desk."

Ms. Gale immediately did so and left back to her office space. Alone again, Mr. Kelly began looking through the files. As he was brought on board, he was made aware of the educational partnership they had with the Xavier Institute for Gifted Children, a prestigious facility for the gifted student. Judging by these files, they were definitely exemplary students. He was surprised that they weren't involved with more extracurricular activities for the school. Perhaps he could talk to the headmaster there and they could work something out. It would look great for the school to have such role models.

He encountered one file of a Mr. Jason Downs, and his file was particularly interesting. The first thing he saw was the school photo ID, and the garish scar on the right side of his face. Despite his less than pleasing appearances, Mr. Downs was a model student: proficient in class, high marks and had a solid overall aptitude, and even was taking special science tutoring three times a week. Perhaps he could approach Mr. Downs for the science club.

As he continued, he noticed a few infractions, mainly altercations with another student: Mr. Pietro Maximoff. Frowning, he put down Mr. Downs' file and pulled Mr. Maximoff's file from a different drawer. Quite the opposite of Mr. Downs, Mr. Maximoff was barely passing his classes, and had many marks against him for bad behavior. As a matter of fact, he was narrowly missing suspension. Closing the file, he found some solace in the fact that Mr. Downs' "bad marks" were just notes made by the previous principal. Considering Mr. Maximoff's behavior, it was hard to believe Mr. Downs was anything short of extraordinary.

A buzzer interrupted his thoughts. Pressing the intercom, he answered. "Yes, Ms. Gale?"

" _Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Kelly, but a Mr. Smith wishes to see you."_

He closed the file he was studying and put the pile aside. "Send him in."

" _Right away."_

The door opened, and Ms. Gale permitted entry to a rather stocky man with sandy blonde hair. "Thank you to seeing me, Mr. Kelly."

"By all means, the pleasure is mine. Please, sit down."

As Mr. Smith did, he spoke. "I'm not here for any big reason, but I do wish to see my daughter, Tabitha. She comes here."

Mr. Kelly sat back. "Sounds easy enough. I'll have Ms. Gale fetch her file so I can see her schedule." He pressed the intercom button. "Ms. Gale, can you also get me the file for Tabitha…" He looked at Mr. Smith. "I presume Smith?"

Mr. Smith nodded, but Ms. Gale spoke up. _"Ms. Smith's file is among the files you requested, Mr. Kelly."_

"Oh, thank you!" Mr. Kelly looked at the stack of folders. "That makes things easier." He leafed through the files until he found the one for Tabitha Smith. "Here we are, just give me a moment."

Mr. Smith never stopped smiling. "Take your time."

Mr. Kelly looked through the file, and located the schedule, but also saw that there was a priority note on the file, and looking through it, he found that there was a restricted visitor list. One only saw this if the student in question was protected by court orders to have arranged visits monitored, and that the responsibility of such fell to Professor Charles Xavier, the headmaster of the Xavier Institute. Mr. Kelly chose his words carefully. "I'm sorry, Mr. Smith, but Tabitha is on a restricted visitor list. I'm afraid that only the headmaster of the Xavier Institute is allowed to permit visitation at this time."

For a brief second, Mr. Smith's smile vanished, but it was back just as fast. "Not even the principal can help with that?"

Mr. Kelly closed the folder. "It's out of my hands. Only Tabitha's caretaker, which is listed as Professor Charles Xavier of the Xavier Institute has the authority to permit visitors. If you wish to speak to Tabitha, you must talk to him. I'm sorry, but that's all I can say."

"Very well," Mr. Smith stood up. "I apologize for taking up your time." He offered a hand.

Mr. Kelly stood up and took it. "No apologies necessary. Thank you for coming by."

Mr. Smith left the office and Mr. Kelly sat down. As he recalled the exchange, there was something not sitting right with him. Mr. Smith almost never stopped smiling the entire time, except for a brief moment when Mr. Kelly first said he couldn't help him. Add that to the presence of a restricted visitor list and that the caretaker was _neither_ Tabitha's mother nor father, Mr. Kelly knew that Mr. Smith was bad news.

Mr. Kelly buzzed the intercom again. "Ms. Gale, please inform the school security officer about Mr. Smith, and ask him to see to it that Mr. Smith vacates the grounds without incident."

" _Yes, Mr. Kelly."_

Mr. Kelly disconnected with his assistant and reached for the phone. "Professor Xavier needs to know about this."

XXXXXXXXXX

 _A little later…_

The Professor was in his office, taking a phone call from the school. He knew that there was a new principal now, and he had expected a phone call to talk about their educational partnership with the school. What he did not expect was that the phone call would come today and that Principal Kelly had grave tidings.

"I understand, Principal Kelly," the Professor said into the phone. "I was not aware that Mr. Smith had been released on parole, but he is still bound by the courts to obey the restrictions. I will speak to the parole officer in charge of Mr. Smith on the terms of the parole." A pause. "Yes, I'll be sure to share those terms with you once I obtain them. I seek the same welfare for my students as you do with yours, rest assured." A pause. "Thank you again, Mr. Kelly. I'll be sure to inform you on any changes. Goodbye, Mr. Kelly."

When the Professor hung up, he folded his hands. He certainly didn't expect Mr. Smith to be released from prison so soon. Tabitha had come to the Institute at the request of Mrs. Smith, who was in a recovery unit from drug addiction, probably in response to the stress Mr. Smith had put her through. Mrs. Smith wanted Tabitha as far away from her father as possible, especially since Mr. Smith had used Tabitha to commit the crimes that landed him in prison, in particular her proclivity to create small charges powerful to blow open safes. His release was disturbing tidings indeed.

He closed his eyes. _"Logan, Ororo, Hank, please meet me in my office,"_ he called out telepathically.

In minutes, the three were in his office, and the Professor gravely spoke to them. "I had just gotten off the phone with Principal Kelly. He has just informed me that Tabitha's father had just tried to visit her at school."

Logan growled. "It's bad enough that Firecracker has been a handful lately; now we got her no-good father showing up."

"I thought her father was in prison," Ororo said.

"He was," the Professor said. "But he was recently released on parole. I don't know the terms yet of the parole yet, but I do surmise that Mr. Smith may stop by here some time after school to request my permission to visit her."

"You don't intend to grant him that, do you?" Hank asked.

"No. Mrs. Smith was quite clear on her request that Tabitha have zero contact with her father. While I cannot deny him entry to the Institute without hearing him, I _can_ deny his request for visitation. He must speak through an attorney if he wishes to pursue the matter, and I will inform him of this. Once he realizes he will not get what he wants here, I hope he will leave."

"Not a chance, Chuck," Logan said. "If I know deadbeats like him, he'll try something. He knows that Firecracker is a mutant, and I'm sure he'll do something about that. I'll be watching."

"Fair enough, but I do not want a violent encounter. Should he resist, I would prefer the police to be involved. That way, the police can document this as a violation of parole, provided that the terms of his parole still involve the restraining order."

"Should we tell the rest of our students?" Ororo said.

"Not at the moment, Ororo, but for now, let us exercise vigilance. I do not want to lose Tabitha to him."

XXXXXXXXXX

It was the hour before lunch, and Tabitha was in a fix: her locker had somehow forgotten her combination and her Social Studies class was any minute. She tried the gentle approach, but the locker was not compliant. She then resorted to aggressive negotiation with her fist, but to no avail. Finally, she had enough. Looking around, to make sure was alone, she created a very small charge in her hands and shoved it into the slot where the lock mechanism should be. Ducking to the side, she watched as a small blast shot open the door.

"Bingo!" she exclaimed. She quickly dug around to find her books…only to make a crucial mistake. "Wait a minute, this isn't my locker." She looked a few doors down, and saw she mixed up the numbers. "Oops, my bad." She shut the locker.

"Tsk, tsk, Tabitha," came a voice.

Tabitha looked to see that Kurt had noticed her little bout with "her" locker.

"You know the Prof said no powers."

"Oh no, Wonder Boy," Tabitha said. "One lecture a day is my daily limit. I'm watching my intake after all."

"Well, whatever you say, Tabitha," Kurt said. "I think we got off easy."

"Oh, now don't you start, Blue," Tabitha said, pinching Kurt's cheek softly. "Professor X has his necktie on _way_ too tight! I mean, what's the point of having these powers if you can't have a little fun with them!"

"Well, yeah, I know, but—" The bell rang before Kurt could get much farther.

"Oh, crap! I need my Social Studies book. Can I borrow yours?" Not waiting for an answer, she ducked right behind Kurt and unzipped his backpack.

"Hey!"

With the precision of a professional, Tabitha pulled out a Social Studies textbook and began to run. "Thanks, Blue! I really owe you one! I'll bring it back over lunch, I promise!"

Kurt watched her run, a little dumbfounded. Just for one day, he would like to march to her drumbeat.

A door opened up to his side, and Bobby Drake came out. "Dude! What are you staring at? You're late for Phys-Chem!"

Kurt shook out of his stupor. "Oh, yeah, thanks, Bobby!" He ducked inside the classroom with Bobby.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was now the lunch hour at school, and most of the Institute students were huddled around one table with their daily rations of cafeteria food. Jason, Piotr, Kitty and Kurt were all tallying up their midterm grades.

"Count so far…" Jason looked over a quick set of notes on the inside of his binder. "Got two A's in Algebra II and World History and a B+ in Drama. All that's left is Chemistry, English and American Literature. Not looking forward to that last one, though."

Piotr looked at his. "I am having A's in Art and World History, and I am having a B in English."

"English isn't easy, so I call that a good grade, Peter," Jason said.

Piotr smiled a bit.

"I have all A's so far!" Kitty exclaimed. "That's in Geography, Physical Science and Algebra I! I hope I keep it up with Spanish, Classical Literature and Drama."

"You are having Drama too?" Piotr asked.

"That's all she needs," Jason said.

"Wise guy," said Kitty. "I do, but in a different period. I'm in the afternoon period."

"I'm in the morning period with Rogue and Jean-Paul; Kitty is in the later period," Jason explained. "That's how Kitty, Rogue and I were in the same musical last semester. Same class, different time."

"Speaking of," Kitty asked. "Why aren't you and Peter like in more of the same classes? You're totally in the same grade, you know!"

"Yeah, but like you, different periods. I'm technically in five classes with Piotr, but only four of those are we in the same period. He has English in the morning, while I have English in the afternoon. He also took Art as his elective while I took Drama."

Kitty said. "Totally makes sense."

Kurt looked at his classes. "Well, I got an A- in Physical Science, a B+ in Algebra, and a B in English."

"That's still not bad," Jason said.

"Yeah…" Kurt said, a little sadly.

Jason was about to ask Kurt about his mood, but then saw Scott had arrived in the cafeteria, looked around, seemingly elated for a quick second, only to see him deflate. Scott then noticed all of them. "Oh, hi, guys."

"Hi, Scott," chorused the four. Jason continued. "What's up with you? You look like you bombed a midterm…or all of them."

"It's nothing." Scott deliberately started eating a piece of chicken.

Jason didn't believe Scott. He then looked around, estimating the general direction Scott was looking before he sat down. At once, he got a hit. He saw Jean sitting with Duncan towards one corner of the cafeteria. "If you say so," Jason said, returning to his milk.

"So what were you all talking about?" Scott said.

"Our midterms," Piotr said.

"Kitty is winning so far with all A's," Jason said. "What about you?"

"Hmm?" Scott perked up. "Oh, uh, I got all A's. No big deal…"

The sheer amount of detachment Scott had regarding his good news was so jarring that everyone looked at each other. They knew why his heart wasn't into the good news, but they couldn't figure out

how to say anything.

Jason decided it was best to refocus to where he was before Scott showed up, and Kurt showed no real improvement of his mood. "Hey, are you still bummed about the fun center this Friday?"

Kurt looked up at Jason. "How can you tell?"

"Let's just say you're bluer than usual," Jason said. "Listen, the place is open all year around, so I'm sure you'll get to go soon enough. You didn't have anyone to go with, did you?"

"No," Kurt said. "That's one small consolation I have. What about you?"

Jason wasn't expecting the rebound of his question, and had to force himself to swallow a mouthful of milk he was taking. "Uh…well…no…not really…"

Piotr looked at Jason, wondering why he was uncomfortable with the question.

Before he could ask, Kurt looked at Scott. "What about you?"

Scott looked just as uncomfortable briefly, but hid it a little better. "I doubt it."

"Oh, gee," Kurt said. "Sounds like we're all having a bummer."

Kitty spoke up. "Hey, it's ok! At least you don't have to worry about being a disappointing date or anything. Totally, I don't know if I could go to a place like that for a date. With _my_ klutziness? Totally, no."

"But you're still going, right?" Jason said.

"Like of course! Why?"

"Oh, no reason," Jason said. "I just need to alert the skee-ball attendant for potential wild pitches—OW!"

Kitty had rapped Jason with the back end of her spoon. "Serves you right."

"You didn't have to go for my head though, even if it _was_ the good side!"

Kurt looked up from the debacle and saw Tabitha wandering through the cafeteria. "Hey, Tabitha!"

Tabitha looked around and saw Kurt. "Oh, hi, Blue! That's right, your Social Studies book!" She came up to the table. "Hi, guys!"

"Hi, Tabitha!" Jason said hollowly, not looking at her.

Piotr looked at Jason. Apparently, Jason hadn't quite forgiven Tabitha for the debacle earlier today in the Danger Room, but wasn't going to have complete animosity towards her.

Tabitha didn't seem to sense Jason's energy. "Here's your book, Blue!"

Kurt got up and took the book back, all the while slurping a nectarine soda.

"Ooh, a Nectarine Blast!" She took the can right out of Kurt's hands. "I love these!" She was about to take a slurp, when Kurt took the can right back.

"Soda machine is just around the corner, thank you," Kurt said, smiling.

Tabitha didn't seem offended at all. "Stingy boy." She brushed a finger underneath Kurt's chin and walked off towards the soda machine.

Kurt seemed to be in a better mood. "See? Chicks love the fuzzy dude!"

"If you say so…," Kitty said.

Kurt looked at his textbook. "Oh, man, she doodled all over it, look!" He held it up for the others to see.

Jason whistled. "Now that _is_ an art project."

"She totally dotted her i's with like little explosions, see?" Kitty pointed out.

"Now _that_ does not surprise me," Scott said.

"Yeah," Kurt said. "You know, once you get past her more insane quirks, she's actually kind of funny."

Jason looked at Kurt incredulously. "Those 'insane quirks' almost got you killed just today, remember?"

"Hey, it was an accident!" Kurt said.

"One that was preventable, particularly because she was throwing little balls of dynamite at the freaking cliff. Oh, and in case you forgot, Peter and I were belaying the lines to keep you two safe! She wasn't, we were. So I think what you're _really_ trying to say is 'thank you'."

"'Thank you'?!" Kurt said incredulously.

"You're welcome!" Jason said angrily.

Kurt looked angry, but Piotr held a hand between Kurt and Jason. "I am not wanting to see my friends fight, so I am asking you two to stop…now."

Both Jason and Kurt looked at Piotr, but they knew he was right. Jason sighed. "I'm sorry, Kurt. That was not fair of me. My frustrations with Tabitha shouldn't be made at you."

"I'm sorry, too," Kurt said. "I didn't help anything today and it got us both in trouble."

"Still," Scott said. "I would still be careful around her, Kurt. Her fun-loving attitude is infectious, but the dark side to that is that it can very often get people into trouble, even those you care about. I know she's your friend, but just be careful, ok?"

"I understand, and I will."

"Well, with that all cleared up, we'd better get to class," Jason said. "I'm still anxious about my other grades."

"You're right," Kitty said, gathering up her tray and books. "Hopefully today is just as good as it has been so far."

XXXXXXXXXX

While the rest of the Institute students were wrapping up their lunches, Lance Alvers was looking at the soda machine with a thoughtful eye. Lunch wasn't going to end officially for a few more minutes, and so traffic would be minimal for now. If he timed it right, he could rip off the soda machine and none would be the wiser. Looking around, he held a hand up to the top part of the vending machine and summoned his seismic powers.

The machine rattled rather hard for a bit, and then he heard something fall. He stopped and saw that he succeeded. A can of soda was now sitting in the bin at the bottom. He picked it up and saw that it was a Cola of the diet variety. Rolling his eyes, he shrugged; beggars can't be choosers.

"Hey, not a bad technique!"

He blanched as he saw a blonde girl come up, and he recognized her as one of the Institute peeps. "Yeah? What's it to you?"

"Nothing, but watch how a professional does it."

One of Lance's thick eyebrows rose in confusion, but the girl didn't seemed perturbed. She conjured a small charge and placed it right inside the coin slot. "You might want to step back." Lance was so confused that he obeyed automatically as she stepped aside. In just a few seconds, there was a bang inside the machine, and dozens of cans _and_ quarters came flying out of the bin below. She smiled and looked at a dumbfounded Lance. "How's that?"

Lance shook himself out of his bewilderment. "Not bad, girl. Breaking rules _and_ appliances? That's grade-A to me. You'd be good with the Brotherhood, if you ask me."

The girl waited to finish a large gulp of laughed. "As if! Like I would even think of being a part of the _loser_ brigade. See you around, Shaker!" The girl left, finishing off her soda and tossing the can expertly into a trashcan.

Lance looked at the mess she left behind and the countless quarters littering the floor. Despite being snubbed quite harshly, she couldn't help but admire her handiwork. He smirked to himself and thought, _"Not bad for an X-Geek."_

XXXXXXXXXX

 _Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – 3:56 PM_

The Professor had his hands folded very patiently together as he spoke to Mr. Smith. The Professor was proven right that Mr. Smith would come calling fairly soon after failing to reach Tabitha at school, and that he would time it to arrive just before Tabitha could arrive back at the Institute to try to intercept her. What Mr. Smith didn't count on was that such resilient resistance awaited him, paraplegia be damned.

"You are in no position to make demands here, Mr. Smith," the Professor said succinctly. "I should not have to tell you that your parental rights mean very little to me as I have explicit instructions from Mrs. Smith that her visitations are to be strictly monitored by myself as agreed by the courts. If you wish to dispute this, I suggest finding an attorney and raising this with a judge, for these conditions are a part of your parole. Until any further resolution is made, I must ask you to leave."

Mr. Smith scowled. "I wouldn't be so dismissive of me, _Professor_. You can't keep me away from my little girl."

"Your past negligence of your own family notwithstanding, your idle threats are not welcome here as well. I'm willing to allow you to leave without incident, but if you choose to resist, I'm not afraid to inform the authorities of your parole violation."

"Fine, and I'll be there to show them how much of a freak show you're really running in this place."

One of the Professor's thin eyebrows rose slightly. "Are you suggesting something, Mr. Smith?"

"I'm not suggesting anything." Mr. Smith strode forward and place his hands right on each arm of the Professor's wheelchair. "You and I both know this isn't any school for the gifted, more like the biggest circus in history with a closet case. You think you can muscle me out of this house by spouting the law, but you wouldn't dare call the police here, because I'll be right there telling them what really this place is about."

Before the Professor could react, Logan, who had been standing quietly nearby, tensed up as soon as Mr. Smith put his hands on the Professor's wheelchair arms. Suppressing a snarl, he strode forward and put a firm hand on Smith's shoulder. "I'm going to say this only once, bub: get your hands off Chuck or else I've found myself a new set of hood ornaments…"

Mr. Smith looked like he was unwisely going to call Logan's "bluff," and just might have had the Professor said nothing. "Logan, that will not be necessary."

Logan growled, but respected the Professor's wishes. The Professor looked back at Mr. Smith, who hadn't moved. "If you are so sure about who we are, Mr. Smith, you might find it unwise to muscle your way in here with your credibility as an ex-felon. The police around here have already been alerted to your presence here thanks to your little stunt at the school today, so you don't have a foot to stand on to be any kind of a threat to me."

Mr. Smith looked like he was about to pop, but was interrupted by someone entering the parlor. Everyone turned to see that Tabitha and Kurt, freshly returned from school, had just entered the room and didn't except to see a faceoff, but what surprised Kurt more was Tabitha's reaction.

"You!" she exclaimed, her carefree nature completely gone. "What are you doing here?!"

Mr. Smith's attitude changed at the drop of a dime. "I'm here to see you, baby girl."

"You're not supposed to be here!" Tabitha's tone turned harsh. "Get out of here!"

"I only want to talk!"

"Why should I listen to you?!" Tabitha shouted.

Mr. Smith looked every inch the repentant father, and no one was buying it. "Listen, I know I messed up a lot, but I got out on parole and I just want us to start over, but I can't do it without you."

Tabitha scowled. "For once, try…" She turned around and strode angrily out of the room. "Sorry 'bout it, Wonder Boy, but there are too many _adults_ here."

Kurt was so flabbergasted by what he had just seen, he just walked out in silence.

The Professor didn't need to use his telepathy to know that Mr. Smith was seething. "Now, Mr. Smith, please leave us, and do not come back without legal representation."

Mr. Smith flushed angrily, but then strode out without another word. Logan's steely gaze followed him out the door. Logan may have a foul temperament, but he respected the Professor enough to keep his murderous urges in check when he was threatened. That was lucky for Mr. Smith; had Logan been not so disciplined, Tabitha's father problems would be history.

Once Mr. Smith had left properly, Logan looked back at the Professor. "I know deadbeats like him, and he's not going to leave Firecracker alone. He'll be back."

"I fear you're right, Logan," the Professor sighed. "His presence is nothing short of a toxin, and I didn't have to pry to know that he attempts to try again to reach Tabitha. I fear even his presence here will be a major distraction for Tabitha."

"The timing couldn't be worse," Logan said. "With Firecracker being grounded."

"Perhaps Tabitha will be wise enough to follow the parameters of her discipline."

"I don't know, Chuck," Logan said, looking skeptical. "This is not going to end well."

XXXXXXXXXX

Tabitha's normal spunky demeanor seemed to have flash-evaporated. She was steamed, and had to restrain herself from blowing things up. There was the Professor's punishment to remember, but it was mainly the fact that nothing here deserved more than her cherry bomb grade explosives she usually displayed. She was angry enough to blow open a bank safe, something she was sure her father wouldn't be too quick to temper.

She was so mad that she even left Kurt in the dust. She knew that Kurt would likely understand a few things about parent trouble—provided what she heard about his true parentage was true—but she felt the compulsion to apologize to him for being rude enough to leave him like she did. Normally, she didn't feel the need to apologize for anything she did, but Kurt was just as fun-loving as she was, only more guarded due to his appearance. She could hardly blame him, but it still sucked that he allowed himself to hold back due to that.

As she sat on her bed, wrestling with her feelings, her cellphone buzzed beside her. Picking it up, she looked at the Caller ID and saw that it was listed as Unknown. Some part of her knew she shouldn't answer, but she was nothing if not free-willed. She pressed the call button. "Hello?"

" _Hello, Tabby."_

Somehow, her blood chilled and boiled at the same time. She knew that voice. "Dad?!" Her eyes narrowed despite him not being physically in the room. "How did you get this number?"

" _Come on, Tabby,"_ her father said. _"I didn't spend time on the wrong side of things and not learn a few things. Truth be told, I saw part of it on the file at the school when your principal was looking you up. I was able to find the rest."_

Tabitha had to swallow. While her father was little more than a thief, it shouldn't be a surprise how well someone could look up anyone's personal information with just a little bit of money. Given her father's past, it's unlikely he has a bank account or anything that can't be monitored by federal oversight, but it would be child's play to get a prepaid VISA card and load it up with a little cash he might have stolen. "What do you want?"

" _To speak with you."_

"Well, now you have, now hang up before I tell the Professor you called."

" _I only want a minute of your time."_

The words _shove it_ were on Tabitha's lips, but for some reason, she restrained their emittance. After a pause, she finally said. "One minute, and I'm keeping count."

" _Fair enough. Listen, your mom isn't doing so well."_

That threw Tabitha. The last time she really seen her Mom was before she came to the Institute. They spoke infrequently, and the last time they spoke, she seemed to be doing well. Her mother was a recovering drug addict, brought on by the stress of being married to someone such as her Tabitha's father. "But you're not supposed to talk to her! How would you know?"

" _She came to me, by phone. That's how much she cares about you. Please, just hear me out. She's having a bit of a relapse and she needs our help. I need your help to get her some…sustainability so she can get back on her feet."_

Tabitha knew that tone. "I knew it! You just want me to get some more cash for you, so we can pretend to be a family again!"

" _I'm sorry, Tabs, for everything I did."_

That stopped Tabitha before she hung up the phone on him. For the longest time, she never remembered him saying those words that way. Granted, she heard him say them in less-than-sincere ways, but this one sounded sincere.

" _I really am trying to get back on my feet, so that I can make things right properly, but you know how hard it is for…someone like me…to find an honest job that can help all of us."_

Tabitha had to concede that point. The workforce was particularly unforgiving about ex-cons trying to get back into civilian life. Normally, there were parole programs that help them to get back into the workforce as long as they met the provisions made in place by the parole office. Those that did manage to get in were often subject to suspicion by their peers, and even if there wasn't, the jobs' pay was comparable to chickenfeed.

Her father continued, thinking the pause as an invitation. _"We just need one hit and that should help. After that, no more hits. I promise."_

Tabitha weighed the problem in her mind, and found it too complex to consider. Tabitha had once or twice helped her father with "hits" with her powers. In other words, her powers were quite good for something as small as breaking open safes or lockers, as something she had demonstrated at school earlier had proven. Something in her mind told her that this was a colossally bad idea, but if her mother truly needed help, perhaps one more couldn't hurt. "If I do this, will you leave me alone?"

" _If that's what you want, Tabs…"_

Tabitha winced. He sounded regretful. Despite his misgivings, he was her father. Perhaps he was really trying to change his ways, and just needed a little help, even if the "how" was shady. "Fine, I'll help," she relented, but quickly added, "but only this once."

" _Thank you, Tabs. Meet me around the outside of Sunland's Fun Center this Saturday. You know what to do, right? I'll see you there. I love you, Tabs."_

He hung up the line on his side, and Tabitha was left in her room, wondering if she did the right thing. She would have to figure out how to even get to the carnival location since she was grounded to the Institute for today's debacle in the Danger Room.

At the thought of the Danger Room, she knew exactly who to ask.

XXXXXXXXXX

 _Sanctum Santorum_

Jason had appeared out of a flash of blue smoke, guided to the hallowed halls of the Sanctum Santorum, to resume his studies with Dr. Strange, his teacher in the mystical arts since he came to the Institute nearly five months past. During the winter break from school, Jason had mainly not met Dr. Strange for lessons, but he did confer with him when it was discovered that Jason's powers had grown so much that he didn't need to clap his hands anymore to summon the alchemic energies. After some observance, it was discovered that he had seemingly absorbed a well of ethereal energies from a mystical stone that was originally in Magneto's possession.

Only a couple weeks prior, Jason had found himself embroiled in one of the most desperate struggles of his life: saving himself and his entire team from the clutches of Magneto. Magneto was intending to use a genetic enhancer to amplify everyone's mutant abilities, while sacrificing their mental capacities to make them more receptive to suggestion. Jason had not only saved the X-Men, but destroyed the facility with the help of Scott and his brother. During those events, Jason had discovered the source of the genetic enhancer's power: the Emerald of Cytorrak, which later he would learn from Dr. Strange it was also called the Third Eye. Exposure to that mystical gem had blown up Jason's alchemic energies to extreme new heights. Ever since the new year started, Jason had met with Dr. Strange periodically to test out his new alchemic prowess.

Jason hadn't taken two steps when he ran into Wong, Dr. Strange's apprentice. Wong greeted him cordially. "Greetings, Master Downs."

Jason blushed slightly. "You know you can call me 'Jason', Wong."

"I know, but I choose not to. You are a fellow student of the Doctor, and it is a matter of courtesy."

"So should I call you Mister Wong then?"

"No, because I am just Wong."

That took Jason by surprise. "Wait, that's your name…like your _entire_ name?"

Wong only stared at him.

"Like Adele?"

Wong's stare remained unwavered.

Jason grew more and more awkward, but wasn't able to stop himself. "Or rather Aristotle? Plato?" Jason pursed his lips, and then mumbled, "Eminem?"

The doors opened, and Dr. Strange entered the room. "Ah, good, you are both here."

" _Oh, thank god,"_ Jason thought. Aloud, he continued. "Sorry if I'm a little late; things have been a little crazy at the start of term."

"Understandably so," Dr. Strange said.

Jason rubbed his hands together. "So what's up for me today?"

"Combat practice."

Jason looked a little confused. "Don't I already get that with the X-Men?"

"Not quite in the way I'm planning," Dr. Strange said, and then looked at Wong.

Jason got the implication. "With Wong?"

"Don't be too surprised," Wong said.

"Wong is among the best physical fighters I've seen," Dr. Strange explained. "and he has been trained by my own teachers at Kamar-Taj. You may have learned much from Wolverine, but you haven't learned much respectfully."

"I'll be sure not to mention that to Logan," Jason said.

"Probably for the best," Dr. Strange said, smiling. Sobering up, he continued. "At the risk of gross understatement, your alchemic skills have grown. In the few months you've attended the Xavier Institute, you've learned how to channel your power into your strategies, but you haven't truly used your full power to fight when your life depended on it. For much of this year, you and Wong will be training together, and you must stand against him using a combination of your power and your skills."

"Sounds simple enough," Jason said. "And while I haven't been everywhere in this place, I assume that we aren't doing it here?"

"In a sense," Dr. Strange said.

Dr. Strange suddenly threw his hands downwards, his palms outwards. Jason jumped when he saw the world around him break like glass. All around him, it looked like he just walked into a mirror maze and every pane was broken but still together. It then faded away and the world once again looked normal. "What happened?" he asked.

"We are in the Mirror Dimension," Dr. Strange. "Here, anyone can practice their mystical arts without harming the real world, as nothing done here affects the physical realm."

Jason looked around, trying to see if he could see any indicator that he was in another dimension. "Convenient."

"Indeed, which allows you and Wong to have no reservations."

Jason barely registered the implication when Wong flashed forward like a force of nature. Wong delivered a savage kick into Jason's center, knocking him right off his feet. Jason was barely recovering when Wong kicked at his sides. "Do not be distracted from your objective. In a real battle, the first move can finish the battle!"

Wong aimed another kick, but Jason caught it in his arms. They locked eyes briefly, and Jason shoved Wong's leg aside. Jason immediately took advantage of the opening and threw his legs over his head in a back somersault, instantly back on his feet. Jason took a prefight stance, arms stretched out and hands cupped like claws.

"Tiger," Wong recognized.

Jason struck out a hand, which Wong parried, but Jason quickly followed up with pulling Wong's arm behind Wong. Wong read the attack and twisted around, taking Jason with him and sending him sprawling. "Jiu-jitsu." Wong said, reading the style and just as quickly chopped right at Jason's unprotected back, breaking his hold.

Jason shook off the pain and sized up Wong. He was fast and seemed to predict Jason's own moves. If he was going to have any advantage, he would have to improvise. He darted forward, and Wong struck with a fist. Before it met Jason, Jason dropped in a sliding kick, aiming for Wong's legs. Wong stepped aside, but Jason twisted around and he was just as quickly on his feet and hands, crouched. Wong struck with a foot to Jason's face, but Jason rose up on his hands, causing Wong to miss, but find his own head trapped within Jason's feet. Jason then threw his body into a twist, causing Wong to be thrown off of his feet. His head would have been smashed into the ground had Wong not caught himself with a hand against the ground, but it was enough for Jason. Releasing Wong's head, he spun around on his hands and was on top of Wong, grabbing his planted hand and attempted to transmute the floor to trap it, but no transmutation came.

Before he could work out what went wrong, Wong somehow had managed to get his other arm free, elbowing Jason's unprotected side. Jason tumbled off and Wong was back on his feet as if nothing happened. "You're learning improvisation in combat, very good, but don't think you can depend on your usual tricks to win a battle. Haste over cleverness…"

That was a lesson that Jason learned from a retired sergeant he knew back in Red Rock; he had even used that lesson against Quicksilver earlier that year. That wasn't the issue in Jason's mind. His transmutation failed. That never happened to him before unless he had guessed the molecular makeup completely incorrectly.

His eyes bulged as he remembered his mentor's words: _"Here, anyone can practice their mystical arts without harming the real world, as nothing done here affects the physical realm."_ He gritted his teeth. Of course; he was cut off from all physical matter in this pocket dimension. The only thing he could manipulate was within the dimension itself, which was only two human bodies…

Jason grinned slightly as he got an idea, because there being only two human bodies wasn't entirely true.

Wong noticed immediately that Jason was up to something but didn't have the chance to react as Jason preemptively attacked. A flash of alchemic energy erupted from Jason's right hand, and he threw it right at Wong. It takes a moment to say this, but it was less than a second when a flash of bright light blew up, blinding Wong. Jason, having anticipated the light and was able to avoid blindness, rush forward and dropkick Wong.

Wong recovered from both the blinding and the attack quite quickly, and he looked at Jason and smiled. "Excellent, although don't expect to use such a trick all the time."

"I don't expect to," Jason stood up. "Another round?"

"I'm afraid not," chimed in Dr. Strange. "You both have fought well, but that concludes the lesson for today. If you two would…" Dr. Strange turned around and traced a circle in the air over and over. Jason watched as sparks lined up in a ring, the ring itself growing bigger until it was big enough to walk through. Dr. Strange turned to Jason. "After you…"

Jason looked at Dr. Strange a little strangely, per se, for all he saw was a ring of sparks around nothing. He knew better than to question Dr. Strange though; he had spent the last several months honing his alchemical skills off and on. The Sanctum Santorum was a place of weirdness, to be sure. He stepped through the ring, and to his surprise, nothing seemed to happen. He turned around to see Dr. Strange and Wong stepping through the ring. As the ring dissipated, Jason had to ask. "Uh, was that supposed to do something?"

Dr. Strange turned to Wong. "Thank you, Wong. You may go."

"As you wish, Doctor." Wong promptly left them alone.

Dr. Strange turned back to Jason, smiling slightly. "We simply stepped out of the Mirror Dimension and back into our home dimension."

"Oh," Jason said. _"Well, that makes sense."_

"The Mirror Dimension is a handy place to be when monitoring the world unseen, but it's also a trap. There's no way to get out of the Mirror Dimension if you don't have a sling ring." Dr. Strange held up his hand, and Jason saw a golden double-finger ring with ornate designs on the top. "Needless to say, the sling ring is something of a staple for us sorcerers."

"And I'm glad I don't have to worry about that since I don't use magic."

"On the contrary;" Dr. Strange raised a gloved hand. "You could enter the Mirror Dimension using alchemy, although it's a very advanced technique for alchemists, mainly because they create it using a different pathway than the paths of magic I use to enter it."

"And I imagine that it's very different than magic since it's more scientific than mystical."

"Not necessarily. Alchemy is the bridge between the physical and the mystical. The energies that you summon aren't that different than magical energies. Consider the transmutation circles…" Dr. Strange swept his hands around, and Jason watched as orange-colored light circle around to create a circle. "Alchemists and sorcerers draw upon the energies of worlds both here and elsewhere through a variety of methods. The language of both alchemy and sorcery is as old as civilization itself. Sorcerers call them spells, while alchemists preferred the term formulas. What they did agree on was that we both drew upon the energy from the various dimensions of the multiverse to do as we desired." Another wave of the hand summoned lines to appear circumscribed in the circle, converging and joining in very specific angles until it created a diagram that Jason recognized as a simple transmutation circle.

Just as quickly as it appeared, it evaporated at Dr. Strange's bidding. "I studied with other mystics before I became the Sorceror Supreme, and I began with no knowledge of the mystic arts as most do. The difference between you and me is that you are already attuned to the energies necessary naturally. For the rest of us, we had to study and exercise discipline to even start to use magic."

Jason shrugged. "Well, I can't really help that."

"'Tis true, but it only increases the responsibility to study wisely. As I've stressed before, alchemy is a tool that is so often abused, as is magic. It must be used just as wisely as it is taught."

Jason nodded. "I understand, but I hope it's not presumptuous of me to ask when I can learn more." Jason paused to consider his next words. "Maybe even learn a bit of what you can do."

Dr. Strange chuckled. "Perhaps in time, but studies should be focused. As for when your alchemy lessons will further advance, it may be sooner than you think. Patience."

Jason nodded, not feeling rebuffed. "I figured, but it doesn't hurt to ask anyway." Looking back up at Dr. Strange, he said, "Is there anything else I should do today?"

"Simply consider what you've learned today. Next lesson, we will try a different approach."

Jason looked puzzled at what that could imply but decided that he would learn soon enough. "Thank you, master." Jason took a hold of the Amulet of Agamotto on his neck and spoke into it. " _Peto locus_."

Dr. Strange watched him disappear in a flash of blue smoke, and then considered the conversation he had. Jason was learning fast, even faster than he anticipated. He very well could learn the mystical arts beyond alchemy, and that was a sobering idea. If Jason learned those arts as fast as he did the alchemic sciences, he _could_ potentially surpass Dr. Strange himself. It was both an amazing and scary thought; Jason could potentially be the most powerful being on the earth…

…and that could spell trouble very soon, he feared.

XXXXXXXXXX

 _Xavier Institute for Gifted Children_

Jason reappeared in his bedroom back in the Xavier Institute, feeling rather tired from today's exercise. He hoped that Logan wouldn't pull a surprise training exercise today, but he wouldn't put it past him. If that was going to happen, he surmised that he'd better get some rest before it potentially happened.

He had just barely thrown himself on the bed—still in uniform as well—when the door opened as Piotr came in, holding a parcel. He saw Jason and jumped slightly. "Oh, J-Jason!" He slightly stammered from surprise. "I am not expecting you."

Jason smiled a little. "Well, in all fairness, I wasn't quite expecting to be back so soon either. I just got here."

Piotr stepped further into the room, making for his own bed. "Was something wrong with your class?"

"No," Jason sat up. "It wasn't bad; it was quick but also a little exhausting. I had combat training with Dr. Strange's protégé, Wong, who could probably give Logan a run for his money—don't tell him I said that—and I had to figure out how to use alchemy while in something called the Mirror Dimension."

"The what?"

"The Mirror Dimension. Apparently, it's a pocket dimension that cuts off anyone inside it from the physical world, although they can still see everything going on from inside it. I couldn't use my alchemy while inside it, unless it was something else already inside, like the air we were breathing."

Piotr wasn't sure it was comforting that there was a dimension so like the every-day one. "What was the purpose?"

"Of that exercise?" Jason asked. "Probably to test how resourceful I could be if cut off from my normal materials, or if I was unfamiliar with the materials I was given. It does keep my skills sharp."

Piotr couldn't wrap his head around the alchemic abilities his best friend had, if he was honest with himself. All he could do is nod.

"So what do you got there?" Jason motioned to the parcel.

Piotr looked at the parcel. "Oh, uh, _da_ , it is addressed to you."

"To me?" Jason said.

" _Da_ ," Piotr handed Jason the parcel.

Jason took it and was surprised how heavy it was. "What the hell is in here?"

" _Ya ne znayu_ ," Piotr shrugged.

Jason looked the parcel over, wondering what it could be. "Did this just come to the Institute?"

" _Da_ ," Piotr said. "I was getting mail and I am seeing this with everything else."

"Hmm," Jason said, looking it over again. "No return label either. This is getting weird."

"What are you wanting to do?"

"Well, part of me thinks opening it is a bad idea," Jason said. "But another part of me is dying with curiosity." Jason let the parcel lay on his lap. "It doesn't make sense if it was anything insidious. I mean, nobody in school has it out for me, unless you count Pietro, and even he's been leaving me alone lately, not that I miss the abuse, let me be clear."

Piotr nodded, but chose not to speak.

Jason pursed his lips. "God damn it, the suspense is killing me. I'm doing it, but just for safety side, open that window in case I need to throw it out very quickly."

Piotr's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

"Hey, weirder shit has happened to me," Jason said. "I know it's cold outside still, but I'll be quick, I promise."

Piotr looked apprehensive but decided to trust Jason. "Okay…"

"You're a gentleman and a scholar, Peter."

Piotr got up, slid open the window, and stayed next to it in case he had to shut it quickly. Jason tore off the paper quickly and saw the contents. "Books?"

"That is it?" Piotr almost sounded disappointed.

Jason took out each book without looking at them at first, looking for any sign of a sender. Finally, he found a note. "Wait, there's a note." Unfolding it, the handwriting was almost flawlessly lined up, and quite formal looking. "It says, 'It's time that you've begun to advance your studies in your alchemy. Study these books and learn them by heart. Only until then will you understand the true power you possess.'" Jason looked up. "Cryptic."

Piotr looked confused, and it took a draft of cold air to let him know that the window was still open. Shutting it, he came to Jason's bed and picked up a book. "What is this?"

Jason tossed the note aside and picked up the nearest book. "Wait a minute…this is no ordinary book." He looked it over more closely. It was a handbound codex with a hardback cover made of something he couldn't immediately identify. There was nothing on the outside cover to indicate what it was, but when he opened it and flipped through the pages, he saw handwritten notes and diagrams that Jason recognized. "Oh my god…these are notes on alchemy." Jason flipped back to the first page. " _The Notes of Khalid_?" He looked at another book and flipped it open. "The _Corpus Hermeticum_?" He then looked at the book in Piotr's hand. "And that's… _L'Alchimie de Flamel_. I recognize that book from Dr. Strange's books. I didn't read it myself, but I don't have a doubt."

Piotr looked up from the book. He flipped through a few pages himself of _L'Alchimie_ , but needless to say couldn't make heads or tails of it, although he had to admit, the arrays in the diagrams were quite beautiful. "Are you thinking Dr. Strange is giving you these?"

"More like he's letting me borrow them," Jason said. "I couldn't imagine him simply giving me these at this stage, but what's weirder still is that he did at all. We were just talking about advancing my studies in alchemy, but these would have to have arrived _before_ we talked about this. Did he already determine that I was ready _before_ today?"

Piotr shrugged. "You are a very smart man, Jason. I am thinking that he is thinking that you are being ready."

"I suppose so," Jason said quietly. He closed a book. "Well, I guess I should do as he says. There's quite a lot of material to cover here…" His eyes flicked back and forth between the modest pile of books. "Although admittedly, I don't have a clue where to start."

" _Attention, students,"_ came Professor Xavier's mental voice in both their heads. _"Logan has requested a training session with the senior members of the Institute. Please suit up and report to the Danger Room."_

Jason and Piotr moaned. "Well," Jason said. "I guess that answers _that_ question: none of them." Looking down at himself. "Good thing I'm still in uniform."

"I will be meeting you at Danger Room then?" Piotr said.

"Eh, I'll just come with you. I'll get bored if I just head down there." He looked at his new books. "I guess I'll start on these after homework is over."

Piotr looked at the books, feeling conflicted about how much Jason would be studying. "Will this be being too much?"

Jason shrugged. "Well, it won't be any tougher than college will be, or at least, I hope. I'll have to remember to thank Dr. Strange next time I see him." Jason winced. "Although Logan won't be thanking us if we dawdle any longer. We better get going."

On that, Piotr could agree.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sadly, Jason never got around to thanking Dr. Strange for the books. Post-midterm school had kept Jason and the rest of the Institute students quite busy, whether they liked it or not. Every student was trying to get as much as they could, for this Friday was the fundraiser for the local community center at the Sunland's Fun Center. While the purpose of the fundraiser was definitely worthy, any of the students would be lying if they said that they weren't going to enjoy themselves primarily. Helping raise funds for the local community center was just a bonus.

Friday night finally arrived, and most of the Institute students got into various vehicles to head into Bayville proper so they could hopefully beat the crowds that would likely be there at this point. Fundraiser notwithstanding, the fun center was a popular destination for families and students alike, even if it sometimes got a little rowdy. The fun center was open fairly late into the night, and since it was the weekend, the students saw no reason to not enjoy themselves, although the Professor _did_ warn them to be on their best behavior, if not practice moderation.

Kurt Wagner looked despondently from his windowsill towards the New York skyline awash with lights and glow. Because of his behavior in the Danger Room earlier that week, he was not allowed to go with the others. He understood and accepted the punishment, but that doesn't mean it stung any less. Jason told him that there were plenty of times to visit the place again. Still, this was a night most of the gang was going, so it was bound to be awesome. Kurt sighed to himself; maybe he should just focus on schoolwork instead of moping. It's not like he was going anyway.

"Hey, Wonder Boy!"

A face popped up right in front of his window, startling Kurt almost to the point of teleporting to the moon had he been capable, but he still fell on his own tail, almost literally. He recovered to see who it was: Tabitha.

"What's up?" she asked, clearly unperturbed by the fact she had scared poor Kurt.

Sitting back up, Kurt had to breath a few times. "My heartrate for one. What are you doing here, Tabitha? Shouldn't you be in your room?"

"Eh, I don't coop up easily," Tabitha said. "so I'm sneaking out of here. Wanna come along?"

"What?!" Kurt exclaimed. "We already gotten into trouble for misbehaving, and you want to do it again?!"

"Come on, it's no big deal. I know you're bored out of your mind, so let's go!"

Kurt was incredulous. "Where would we even go?"

"Duh, the fun center, of course!"

Kurt bit his lip. He knew that it was definitely against his punishment to sneak out, but he _did_ want to go the fun center. "I don't know, Tabitha…," he said reluctantly.

"Come on! You're the best to zip out and zip right back! We'd be back before any one is the wiser."

Kurt still seemed reluctant and wasn't sure what to say.

"Just one or two games there, and we'll be right back. What do you say?"

Kurt was squirming between his conscience and his desires. He really did want to go really badly, but the Professor was very clear in his instructions. Still, it wouldn't be that long…and he was able to be quick…

"No!" Kurt blurted out before he could stop himself. "No can do!"

Flash forward a few moments, Kurt and Tabitha were having a blast at the Sunland Fun Center, despite Kurt's best efforts. There were so many people here that it was next to impossible to see any of the rest of the Institute people, so it was unlikely anyone was going to notice them. Kurt and Tabitha were racing each other in a virtual racing cart game, and despite Kurt's skills, Tabitha was the clear winner.

Kurt and Tabitha couldn't stick around at this particular game long as there was a queue beginning to form with other perspective players, but that didn't dampen their mood at all.

"I don't know how you always beat me, but you're too good at that game," Kurt said.

"Who cares?!" Tabitha said as she wrapped her arms around one of Kurt's. "Hey, I have an idea. This place is prime for a few pranks. You in?"

"Sure!" Kurt said, his elation overriding the sense to refuse. "What do you have in mind?"

The next several moments were punctuated with carefully aimed teleportation behind unwitting victims, while Tabitha laid a few cherry-bomb like charges at their feet…or inside food dispensers…or even inside a freshly won stuffed bear or two. There were plenty of kids carrying freshly won toys though, but Tabitha steered clear of them. They were just kids after all.

After about thirty minutes of this, Kurt and Tabitha took a break in the nearby food service area. "Man, I _love_ teleporting!" Tabitha exclaimed. "You can just zip in and zip out of any jam whenever you want! You are _so_ lucky!"

Kurt was thankful that his hologram hid blushing, blue fur underneath notwithstanding. "Hey, throwing little firecrackers around like you can is pretty cool too!"

"You're too sweet, Wonder Boy…" Tabitha looked around, and saw a pair of familiar faces at a hot dog stand. "Hey, look who's crashing the party!"

Kurt looked to where Tabitha was pointed and saw the massive form of Fred "The Blob" Dukes, and the more slender but no less familiar figure of Lance "Avalanche" Alvers. "Hey, what are those creeps doing here?"

"Maybe they took some poor kid's money at school today," Tabitha surmised.

"Or they took it from somewhere else," Kurt said. "I heard a vending machine was smashed at school a few days ago. Maybe they took some change from that."

Tabitha knew which one he was talking about but decided not to admit that one was on her. Still, it would explain how they were able to show their faces here at all. "Hey, I'm game for one more prank, and that loaded hot dog Blob's getting is looking particularly juicy. I'll be right back."

"Ok, but be careful," Kurt said.

"Hey, it's me!" Tabitha said, and then stealthily positioned herself within range of Fred's incoming hot dog, loaded with more condiments than dog. Both Lance and Fred had their backs turned to her, so and she had to do was wait patiently, and then toss a charge with expert skill. Fred picked up the loaded dog and it was approaching his mouth as Tabitha created a charge and flicked it with the precision of a pro. The charge sailed through the air and landed on the hotdog, just inches from Fred's mouth. Fred was about to chomp down on the hotdog when he saw the charge land. All he could was watch as it detonated, sending ketchup, cheese, relish and onion everywhere.

"Hey!" Fred protested, wiping the mess from his face. "When I said 'loaded', that isn't what I meant!"

Lance, having heard the pop of Tabitha's charge, turned around and barely evaded the mess of food. He was about to tell Fred to shove it, but saw two figures departing the scene, and one of them was the girl he saw earlier that week busting the soda machine.

"Hey, it's that girl from before!" Lance pointed towards the two fleeing the scene. "I bet she did that to you. Let's find out what they're up to."

"Yeah," Fred said. "and then give them a pounding!"

Lance and Fred nodded and took off after the two practical jokers.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Have you ever played skee-ball before?" Jason asked Piotr.

"No," Piotr said.

Jason and Piotr were at the skee-ball machines and had been joined by Kyle and Jean-Paul—whom they had encountered earlier. While they waited for their turn at the game, Jason had been trying to get Piotr to try some of the games. Being from the frigid and often-forgotten lands in Siberia, Piotr had not much exposure to the frivolities of modern society. For the last few months, Jason had been taking Piotr out to try out new things like bowling and haunted houses. The arcade section was just one of many places Jason had hoped to take Piotr. Although Piotr found the noise jarring, he had to admit that he was having fun.

"Sounds like it's high time to try," Jason said. "Don't worry, it's easy as pie."

"Which I hear isn't that easy to make," Jean-Paul interjected.

"Very helpful, Jean-Paul," Jason said, scowling at Jean-Paul.

"I aim to please!"

"Anyway," Jason said. "I'll give you a rundown on how to play. You're given nine balls to use. You have to get the balls into the hole."

"Giggity," came Jean-Paul's voice again.

Jason ignored Jean-Paul, although he did have to stifle a laugh. "As you can see there are several holes in the scoring area, and each one has a point value based on difficulty. Even if you miss the higher value holes, the ball will typically roll down and fall into a lower value hole, so it really doesn't punish you for having bad aim, although you will do need to aim for at least 100 points to get a prize ticket. The more you get, the more tickets you get, obviously."

Piotr nodded like he understood.

"It's only the easiest thing to do, Jean-Paul."

Jason turned to Jean-Paul. "We all got to start somewhere. Besides, if you really want to go lightning round with us, let's do at least a warm-up session."

"Yeah, yeah…"

"Let's just hope for your sake that your skills in skee-ball are just as good as your bowling skills," Kyle said, his game face starting to form. "Wanna take a bet?"

"Oh no," Jason said. "No more embarrassing bets for the uninvolved."

"I was going to suggest the loser buys the winner a soda," Kyle said.

Jason bobbed his head a little. "Ok, fine, that sounds like a bet."

"Looks like the game just got serious," Jean-Paul said.

"Well, I _have_ to find some worthy competition in these kinds of things," Kyle said. "Sorry about it."

"Sorry, _not_ sorry," Jean-Paul said. "You're lucky I'm dating you."

"All right, you two kitties," Jason said. "Time out before I sic the dog on you."

"Well, I'm certainly not against a puppy," Jean-Paul said.

"Oh," Jason moaned. "You are perfectly incorrigible."

"Thank you, I try!"

Piotr looked completely lost. "What are you two talking about?"

"See what you've done, Jean-Paul?" Jason said, before turning to Piotr. "It's a form of animal roleplay where they dress up as dogs and act a lot like dogs. It can be innocent, but it can be sexual as well. Not into it myself, but hey, it's out there."

Piotr looked a little disturbed by the prospect. "Why?"

"Why not?" Jean-Paul said.

"What he said," Jason said. "Everyone has their reasons for doing what they do, and as long as it doesn't hurt anyone else, go ahead."

Piotr had to concede that point. He often tried to stay out of people's business often mainly because he didn't understand it. He didn't have to understand why people do things as long as it wasn't hurting anyone."

"My question is how in the world do _you_ know about this stuff?" Jean-Paul asked.

"Yeah, mine too," Kyle looked suspiciously at Jason.

Jason didn't seem bothered. "It's something you both might have heard of, called the internet. That's not even the craziest things I've seen."

"Oh," Jean-Paul looked intrigued. "Wanna share?"

"No," Jason said, his tone very clearly saying this was the end of this conversation.

In due time, it was their turn at the skee-ball machines. While Jean-Paul and Kyle started their own round, Jason and Piotr started their own. Jason put a token into the machine and received nine wooden balls. "There's no time limit to this technically, so if you want to take your time and aim, that's fine as well." Jason demonstrated with a graceful roll, and the ball went up the ramp at a solid clip, finally sinking in the forty-point hole. "See? Just like that. It takes a little skill to get high scores, but whatever."

Piotr nodded as he picked up his own ball and gave it a solid roll…only for it to go up the ramp so fast that it had smacked against the protective screen hard enough to deflect, bounce out and back down the ramp.

Jason winced at the sound the ball had made, and saw it roll back down. "Ooh, maybe not so hard on the rolls."

Piotr looked apologetic. "It was an accident."

"Hey, it's all right. At least you got to try again with the same ball. It takes some practice and some finesse, but it's an easy game, really. Just relax and adjust your strength a bit. You're just not quite aware how strong you are in this game."

Piotr nodded and tried again, and this time was more successful. The ball dinged off the forty-point circle, but managed to roll into the twenty-point hole.

"See? You're doing fine! Just eight more balls to go."

Piotr smiled.

Jason finished his game before Piotr did, being a little more experienced in skee-ball than Piotr, but Piotr finished soon after. "Well, you got two tickets out of that," Jason said. "That's not a bad start."

Piotr had plucked the two tickets he had won from the machine, while Jason had earned eight. "You are right. This is fun."

"I'm glad you think so," Jason said. "Because it's time for lightning round."

"What?"

"Lightning round," Jason repeated. Looking at Jean-Paul and Kyle, who were restarting their games to participate. "Lightning round is where we all start at the same time and try to get as many points in as fast as possible. The player who earns the most in the least amount of time wins." Jason inserted another token, reloading his nine balls. "It's fast, it's fun, and it can get a little competitive." Jason eyed Kyle, who nodded.

Piotr wasn't the most competitive person, but he inserted a token for his own machine.

"Right," Jason said. "First ball, gents!" He picked up his ball. Kyle and Jean-Paul followed suit while Piotr slowly got his. "On my mark, go as fast and accurately as you can! Or just go nuts! Ready?"

All rose their balls up.

"Get set!"

Everyone tensed.

"Roll!"

Everyone started rolling their balls up their ramps like there was no tomorrow. Jason and Jean-Paul were laughing as they fudged a few shots, but kept the balls rolling, so to speak. In just over ten seconds, it was over.

"I can't believe it!" Jean-Paul said. "You and Kyle tied at 370 points!"

"Hey, I'm good," Jason said.

"I call for a rematch," Kyle said. "A free soda depends on it!"

Jason cracked his knuckles. "Game on."

Jean-Paul and Piotr retreated a short distance from Jason and Kyle as they set up another round of skee-ball. As they watched the two players race, Jean-Paul turned to Piotr. "You know, lately I've seen you happier than I ever saw you."

Piotr looked at Jean-Paul. "I am hoping so."

"See? You're smiling even right now."

Piotr tried not to blush, but he was bad at having a poker face. "You are teasing me."

"Hey, I mean it! That's been true for Jason as well. If it's not too personal, what had happened?"

Piotr had to think a little bit before answering. There were elements of the story that he couldn't reveal because it would mean confessing that he was a mutant. As much as he wanted to tell Jean-Paul the truth, the Professor warned Piotr—in addition to everyone else—that it's imperative to keep mutant existence secret for now. In situations like this, Piotr chafed at that rule, but he remembered that he wasn't alone in that situation. Piotr could take any blow-back, but what about his friends?

Piotr looked at Jason, who had just tied another game with Kyle, start up another game to settle the tiebreaker. Jason had been through hell and back more than once, and Piotr would hate himself forever if by his rash actions Jason would come to harm. Piotr understood why he had to keep his being a mutant a secret, for now anyway. He couldn't hurt his friends, or the person he cared about more than anyone else. "It is a long story, Jean-Paul," Piotr began. "I am sorry, but I am not ready to be telling it yet. Maybe one day, I will be telling you it."

"I understand," Jean-Paul said. "It's killing me that I don't know that much about you, but you have your reasons, as much as Jason has his for his own secrets."

"I cannot be speaking for Jason," Piotr said. "but he is seeing that you are good friend. I am hoping he can talk to you as well."

"Has he to you?" Jean-Paul asked. "I don't mean to be nosy, but I'm hoping he at least told you since you're probably his best friend in the world, and I'm not exaggerating."

Piotr smiled at that. "He is my best friend." Piotr's heart fluttered a little bit, chiding him that he really hoped it would be more than that. "He does not have to talk to me about it."

That got Jean-Paul's full attention. "What does that mean?"

Piotr looked at Jean-Paul, then back at Jason, considering if what he was possibly too much. He didn't want to hurt Jason or betray Jason's feelings by mentioning their past, or how they met. Still, maybe just an acknowledgement and nothing else shouldn't hurt.

"Because I was there," Piotr said, a little remorsefully.

Jean-Paul looked like he had to know more, but Piotr's tone was not lost on his part. However Jason and Piotr had met, it sounded like it was under less than ideal circumstances; whatever it was though, it shaped their friendship to a level that made Jean-Paul both a little jealous and a little intimidated. It was the kind of friendship that was forged in adversity and it was the strongest bond of all. "Whoa, that sounded heavy."

Piotr nodded, but wished to say no more.

"I get it, so I won't pry any further. It definitely sounds like it's really personal."

"It is."

"Then perhaps you should wait until both you and Jason are ready, because it sounds like a story you both should be telling."

Piotr looked at Jean-Paul. Despite Jean-Paul's sometimes-annoying need to know things, he cared enough for his friends to not dig too deep. It was probably learned back in Tapoe Caves after an unfortunate interaction between Jason and Jean-Paul, which lead to a month of depression for Jason. "Thank you, Jean-Paul."

By this time, Jason and Kyle had rejoined Piotr and Jean-Paul. "Hey, did I miss something?" Jason asked.

"Not really," Jean-Paul said. "So how did it go? I stopped paying attention."

"We tied," Jason said. "Again."

"What are the odds?!" Kyle said.

"I care less about the odds and care more about how to settle the bet now," Jason said. "Do we or do we _not_ get each other a soda?"

"How about we just go get ourselves a round of sodas and call it even?" Jean-Paul offered.

Jason and Kyle looked at Jean-Paul, then at each other. Jason shrugged. "It would be easier."

"Yeah, you're right," Kyle said.

"That wasn't hard at all," Jean-Paul said.

"All right, then," Jason said. "I _am_ getting a little parched from all that, so let's—" Jason looked towards where the food area was, and instead espied two very familiar figures—they appeared to be Tabitha and Hurt-trying to dodge the attention of two more familiar figures, whom Jason recognized as Lance and Fred. "Shit…" Jason hissed.

"Jason?" Piotr asked. "What is wrong?"

Jason was about to let Piotr know, but sadly they were among mixed company. "I thought I saw two people who shouldn't even be here. I smell trouble."

"Hey," Jean-Paul said. "Don't worry about it. It's not our business, so let's just go get our sodas and get back to having fun."

Jason looked at Jean-Paul, knowing that the latter had no idea what he was talking about really, but he couldn't divulge why. While Piotr would understand, he couldn't tell him in front of Jean-Paul and Kyle. Pursing his lips and feeling conflicted, he had to do what was best in the moment. He'd have to deal with what he saw later. "You're right, let's go." Jason's mood brightened. "How about I meet you there? I got to hit the restroom first."

Jean-Paul looked suspicious. "Be there, Jason."

"I will, I will!" Jason said. "Trust me, I will be there."

"Good," Jean-Paul said. "Come on, Kyle. Let's at least get our drink on."

"If only that were right," Kyle said.

As Jean-Paul took Kyle by the hand away, Piotr made as if to follow, but Jason stopped him. Piotr looked at Jason. "What is wrong?"

"I'm very sure I just saw Tabitha and Kurt here."

Piotr looked shocked. "Are you sure?"

"I wish I wasn't, but I'm positive I saw them, and it looks like they attracted the attention of Lance and Fred, and you know you can't miss Fred in a crowd."

Piotr looked around but saw none of the people Jason identified. "It is looking that they are gone now." He looked back at Jason. "What do we do?"

Jason sighed. "I don't know, really. I don't know what possessed Kurt to break curfew. Tabitha makes perfect sense, but Kurt? I smell something rotten and it's not the garbage we're standing next to. And Fred and Lance are involved somehow? This is bad, really bad."

Piotr looked stuck himself. "Should we be finding Scott?"

"In this mess?" Jason said, motioning to the crowd. "It'd take too long." Jason reached into his pocket. "The best we can do is text him, but I don't know if he will even get the message in here, or even acknowledge receipt of it. In the meantime, let's go meet up with Jean-Paul and await further instructions."

Piotr had to agree. It would take far too long to find Scott in just one room, let alone the entire building. Still, he was uncomfortable. "I am worried, Jason."

"So am I, Piotr, but honestly I'm more annoyed than anything else, but my hands are tied until something else happens. Let's hope nothing does."

Piotr looked bemused. "I am sorry to say that something will happen."

Jason pursed his lips. "Yeah, that definitely seems to be our lot in life."

XXXXXXXXXX

In the skating rink room, Scott sat rueful and despondent in the seating area. He was watching Jean skate with her boyfriend, Duncan Matthews, the local football star of their school. Scott had arrived here with the rest of the X-Men, while Jean had hung out with Duncan all afternoon and arrived here together, a fact that made Scott seethe. Scott had originally elected to stay home to avoid this altogether, but being a senior member of the X-Men, with the rest of the X-Men here having a good time, he felt that it was his duty to be here, if at least to supervise. That wasn't happening though, as he instead stuck to the skating rink in view of Jean.

Duncan and Jean had been dating for over a year, and Scott was torn about that. While he couldn't stand Duncan as a person, he also didn't want to ruin anything that made Jean happy. Scott and Jean were best friends, and Jean would always treasure Scott as a friend. That being said, Scott would be lying to himself if he didn't wish Jean to dump Duncan and form a relationship with him instead.

Scott and Jean were among the highest-tenured students at the Institute, Jean arriving first and Scott arriving shortly afterwards, both in their freshman years two years ago. For the most part, they were the only two mutants at Bayville High until everyone else started showing up during their sophomore year. Between the time they first met and then, they formed a friendship forged with mutual loneliness and understanding of each other's struggles. Jean wanted a sense of normalcy above anything else, while Scott just wanted to be able to look at someone without needing the glasses he was given. Jean's longing for a normal life somehow ended up in her falling for the jock in high school, and she became the most popular girl in school as a result. All Scott could do was fade into the background and be a supportive friend, but he certainly didn't like it. Scott had fallen for Jean, but it was unrequited, and it sucked.

"Hey, Scott!"

Scott looked up to see Jean's friend, Taryn who was also a junior, come up to him. "Oh, hey, Taryn." Scott found it odd that she was alone. "What are you doing here?"

"Yeah, I know," Taryn said. "I normally hang with Jean, and I was, but 'three's a crowd', if you know what I mean."

Scott winced. "Yeah, I actually do."

"I mean, I can't blame them, but a girl can only play third wheel for so long before she feels unwelcome."

"I'm sorry; I don't think they meant it that way."

"Scott, you are _so_ nice to say that," Taryn said. "I know Jean doesn't, or at least I think so, but Duncan? Yeah, I don't know what Jean sees in him, but hey, not my problem."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"So…," Taryn leaned in towards Scott. "Wanna go skating with me?"

Scott did not expect that. "Wait, you and me?"

"Duh!" Taryn said. "A guy like you shouldn't be a wallflower anywhere, so let's go!"

Scott felt himself pulled from his seat and towards the desk to pick up two pairs of skates. Scott knew Taryn mainly through Jean, and Taryn was definitely a cool girl, but they never hung out properly, mainly due to the difference in their social circles, but somehow Taryn seemed to have taken a shine to him tonight, and definitely wanted to hang out with him. Scott wasn't sure how to feel due to this shift of interest, especially since he had spent half the evening moping about Jean. Still, if someone wanted to hang out with him and have fun, and if he did end up having fun itself, what was the harm really?

He was so distracted that he didn't feel the buzzing from an incoming message in his jacket pocket.

XXXXXXXXXX

Some moments later, Jean and Duncan had left the skating rink. Somewhere between getting the skates at the counter and actually skating, Jean had lost her friend Taryn. While she had wondered where she disappeared to, she was too distracted by her good time with Duncan. Duncan may be a knucklehead sometimes, but she couldn't deny that he was fun to be around. If only her best friend, Scott, could loosen up a little bit and see Duncan in this light rather than his own preconceptions.

Jean and Duncan had sat down at a nearby table, when Jean finally espied Taryn in the skating rink. "Oh, _there_ she is! I was wondering where—" Jean cut herself off when she noticed that she was skating, hand-in-hand, with Scott. "…she's with Scott?"

Duncan didn't seem to care too much about Jean's missing friend, but perked up a bit upon Jean's statement. "Really now? Well, maybe Summers will finally leave us alone. It's about time he found someone else to be with."

Jean suppressed a frown. It was no secret that Duncan and Scott had a not-so-quiet rivalry, partly because Duncan didn't care to have Scott hanging out with Jean so much, despite that they were best friends. On the flip side, Scott seemed to have a chip on his shoulder regarding how much Jean hangs with Duncan, despite the fact Duncan is her boyfriend. Jean had to sigh internally; she was definitely going to have to give both of them a major talking to. If this wasn't headed off soon, it could potentially lead her to choose between Scott or Duncan, and that's not a decision anyone should have to make.

Jean sighed to herself. With Valentine's Day not too far away, she can see why it was easier to be single.

XXXXXXXXXX

Kurt and Tabitha had managed to give Lance and Fred the slip, although it took a little too long for Kurt's liking. He was already out here breaking the rules, and it was a miracle he hadn't run into any of the other Institute students. He had a feeling that his luck was running out, and that he needed to get both Tabitha had himself back to the Institute before anyone was the wiser. He had to wonder if Tabitha would be willing, and if she wasn't, what was he supposed to do?

At that moment, Tabitha seemed to stall, like she saw something that she hoped she wouldn't see. Kurt wasn't sure what, but this was definitely not something she'd normally do. "Tabitha? What is it?"

"Oh," Tabitha jumped. "N-nothing, Wonder boy."

Kurt was shocked. Tabitha was always so put together. Seeing her fidget now? Something was definitely up.

"Hey, listen," Tabitha said. "Why don't you meet me at the skee-ball machines? I'll be right there."

"What?" Kurt exclaimed. "No way, Tabitha! We have to leave before we're seen! It's already been…" Kurt trailed off to look at his watch, and his eyes nearly fell out of his head. "Whoa! It's been two hours!"

"Just add five more minutes to that, and we can go. I promise!" Tabitha gave a firm shove to Kurt.

Kurt nearly lost his balance as he was pushed towards a more crowded part of the arcade. Kurt was about to return and grab Tabitha and port right there and then, but Tabitha ducked behind an arcade machine, and he saw someone approach her. Kurt recognized the figure from earlier that week: Tabitha's father.

Suspicious at once, Kurt practically slithered his way towards Tabitha and her approaching father, all the while trying to keep out of sight. His mutation allowed him to see very well, although he never measured his hearing. He only hoped that it would not fail him now, the din of the arcade notwithstanding.

Staying on the opposite side of the arcade machine, he listened as Tabitha pleaded with his father.

"I was thinking maybe I could blow the token dispensers, or maybe the payphones outside."

"Chump change," dismissed Tabitha's father. "Besides, there are too many eyes here. Besides, much of the cash isn't kept here tonight, but is kept near the principal's office at your school."

"Wha—?" Tabitha said. "How do you know?"

"I overheard Principal Kelly and his assistant talk about it. It doesn't matter how I learned, but I know it's there. They take an amount of the earnings from here to there, and they do it hourly. They just returned from their last deposit, which means we have about fifty minutes to go there, blow the safe, and take off. They won't know what hit them."

Tabitha sounded reluctant. "Dad…this could get us into really big trouble."

"How? We go now, we grab the bag and I'm gone, like we agreed. I wouldn't suggest we do this if it wasn't for your mom."

Kurt listened as Tabitha didn't say anything at first. "Ok, fine. We do this, and you go, and I mean it!"

"That's my girl. We'd best go now."

"Fine, let's get this over with."

Kurt stayed out of sight as he watched Tabitha and her father make their way towards the doors. He thought about following them to where they were going, and intercept them, but he espied two familiat figures following them: Lance and Fred. They must have spotted Tabitha, and if they followed Tabitha back to the school, this could go sideways.

" _Oh no,"_ Kurt thought to himself. _"Tabitha is in really big trouble now, and I can't help!"_ Kurt bit his lip, trying to think without panicking. "I can't do this by myself. I need to find help, even if it means I get into really big trouble."

Kurt knew that if he found someone from the Institute here to help, it would eventually mean that his punishment at the Institute could be extended. It was not a comfortable thought, but what was a bigger punishment in the face of the alternative? If he did nothing, Tabitha could get seriously hurt. Kurt gulped; he had to get help, even if it meant being grounded for a year.

Kurt looked around in the crowds to find anyone, but he couldn't see anyone familiar. Kurt had to keep looking, and he had to be fast. He had to think: where would be a likely place for anyone else to be? The fun center had several areas to have fun, but if you needed a breather, everyone always went to where the food and drinks were. That's it! Someone had to be at the food court!

Kurt almost ported right there and then to save the time, but there were far too many people. He already had one big problem and being reckless wasn't going to help. He had to fight his way through the crowd. He just hoped that he wasn't too late.

It took an agonizing five minutes to reach the food area, and Kurt stayed outside the entry way so he could hopefully spot any familiar faces from there. It took longer than Kurt would have liked, but he spotted two of them near the edge of the room, enjoying drinks with at least one other face Kurt recognized from school. Jason and Piotr were sitting with their friend Jean-Paul along with someone else Kurt didn't recognize. Kurt gulped; Jason wasn't the most even-tempered choice he could make, but there was no time to be picky. Kurt made his way towards Jason's table, telling himself that he _had_ to do this. Jason had not noticed Kurt's approach, but Kurt knew that Jason wasn't going to be happy seeing him, for sure.

Kurt reached Jason's table and didn't hesitate. He laid a hand on Jason's shoulder. "Jason, I need your help!"

Jason was a little startled at first, but as soon as he saw Kurt's face, his face soured. "Yeah, I'll say you do! Damn it, Kurt! What are you even doing here?!"

Kurt clasped his hands together, pleadingly. "Please, this is no time for a lecture! It's Tabitha. I think she's about to do something dangerous!"

Piotr had noticed Kurt's arrival after Kurt's original plea, and while he was as upset as Jason at Kurt's brazen breaking of curfew, he saw Kurt's face and his frustrations vanished instantly. "What is wrong?"

Jason had his head in his hands, trying to manage his aggravation with Kurt. "We have two AWOLs, that's what!" Jason groaned. "I _so_ don't need this tonight."

"Please, Jason!" Kurt pleased harder. "I know I messed up big time tonight, but I need your help now! You can chew me out later and I deserve it, but now, I need you and Piotr's help! Please, _meine freunde_!

Jason looked back at Kurt and was about to chew him out right there and the; however, he saw something in Kurt's eyes that stopped him. Whatever Kurt was asking, it was serious. Kurt wasn't very serious most of the time, so when he was, it was very evident on his face. Jason's anger faded away instantly, and was replaced with determination. "Ok, lead the way."

"Should we be finding Scott?" Piotr asked.

"There's no time!" Kurt said.

Jason pursed his lips. "I think I have to agree. It's too much of a mess to find him now, or try to reach him."

Jean-Paul had watched the entire exchange, and piped up. "Do you guys need our help?"

Jason looked at Jean-Paul, nearly forgetting he was here. "Ah, no. I can't tell what's going to happen, and I don't want all our nights ruined. We'll be fine."

Jean-Paul didn't look convinced, but he thought better than to press. "Ok, but you'd better let me know, or else I'm going to have a hissy."

"God forbid," Jason quipped. "We will." He turned to Kurt and Piotr. "Let's go, and hope this isn't going to be a disaster. Let's get to the van."

XXXXXXXXXX

Some time later, Tabitha and Mr. Smith had arrived at the school. Tabitha wasn't the kind of person to be nervous, but looking at the dark school on top of her guilty conscience, she definitely did not want to be here. Mr. Smith in a stark contrast seemed oblivious to the atmosphere as well as her daughter's misgivings. He made his way to the door, and Tabitha was just behind him, hating herself all the way. When they reached the double doors, Mr. Smith looked around to make sure they're were alone. Satisfied, he turned to Tabitha. "Do your thing, Tabs."

Tabitha sighed in resignation, creating a small charge in her hands. She slid it between the cracks of the door as if it were a quarter for a slot machine. Both stepped back, and just in time as the charge detonated with a loud pop, throwing the doors opened and even breaking the glass. Had the situation not been so serious, Tabitha would have noted that she might have overdone the charge a bit.

Her father seemed a lot less caring. "The alarm may have been tripped. We'd better get moving."

"Right," Tabitha said quietly.

Mr. Smith didn't acknowledge the tone of Tabitha's response, and merely led the way down the halls towards the principal's office. It wasn't far from the front doors, but to Tabitha, every step felt like a drudge. She used whom she considered her best friend at the Institute to break their curfew—which Tabitha had to admit didn't bother her in itself—but it was _why_ she did it that bothered her. Kurt deserved so much better, and here she was, likely getting him into more trouble. Tabitha thought there was nothing she could do to make this right.

Finally, they arrived at the secretary's desk in front of the office. Mr. Smith eyed the painting on the back wall, and studied its frame a little bit before finding what he was looking for. Pulling on one side, the painting opened up to the side to reveal a non-descript safe, nothing terribly impressive.

"Here we are," Mr. Smith said. "Make it a big one, Tabs!"

Tabitha looked wordlessly at her father, and then sighed. Here goes nothing. She rubbed her hands together to create the charge she needed to blow open a safe. The charge was barely the size of a nickel, but she knew it would do the trick. Stepping back, both watched as the safe door blew open loudly, revealing a stuffed cash bag inside, barely fitting the inside of the safe.

Mr. Smith's eyes took on a rather greedy gleam, and it always disturbed Tabitha when she saw it. Mr. Smith almost couldn't wait to pull the bag out of the safe. "All right, let's get out of here."

Before they could get far, something leaped up and snatched the bag right out of Mr. Smith's hands.

"Thank you, pops!" it said as it hopped away.

Tabitha recognized the thieving form, despite the darkness, as Todd Tolanski, otherwise known as "Toad." Mr. Smith was enraged. "Get back here!" He ran after the fleeing frog-like fiend.

"Dad, wait!" Tabitha said as she gave chase.

Toad led the two would-be thieves through the hallways and towards the gymnasium. Tabitha found that odd; there wasn't any good way out that direction. It was easier to leave the way they came. It wasn't until they arrived when Tabitha realized Toad's reasons, for sitting on the bleachers were Toad's pals: Avalanche and Blob, the members of the Brotherhood.

Toad joined his pals on the bleachers. Avalanche sneered at Tabitha. "What do you think of my technique _now_ , Tabby?"

Tabitha merely waved them off. "Not impressed."

"Don't just stand there, Tabitha!" Mr. Smith barked. "Get it back!"

"Even Tabby is smarter than going three-against-one," Avalanche said. "and I don't think the odds are going to change anytime soon, so just get lost, old man."

Mr. Smith looked enraged. "If you think I'm going to let you take what's rightfully mine, I'll break every bone in your body!" Enraged, he charged.

"Dad, no!" Tabitha screamed.

Toad, leaving the cash behind, leaped up and dropkicked Mr. Smith, gracefully landing while Mr. Smith slid across the floor. "And the Toad scores!"

"Hey!" Tabitha shouted. "That wasn't a good idea, Toad!" She hurled a handful of charges towards the hopper.

Toad wasn't sure what those charges were supposed to do, but he didn't want to stick around and find out. Hopping away as fast as he could, charge after charge detonated loudly. One found its way onto Toad's back, and sent him flying face-first into the bleachers.

"Big mistake, Tabby," Avalanche said, as he gestured towards the ground. At once, the entire gymnasium started shaking as the earth tremor started to intensify. It was all Tabitha could do to stand up, and her father was having the same trouble.

Suddenly, a suspended acoustic panel above snapped loose from its supports, falling straight towards Tabitha. She looked up and saw the panel come right at here. There was no time for her to dodge, and it was all she could do to brace herself.

The panel suddenly stopped its deadly descent, hovering inches away from Tabitha's head. Tabitha didn't dare move, but was relieved to see something stop it. The tremors stopped as well; Lance was apparently just as surprised by the invisible interception. Tabitha then noticed that the broken chains on the panel were sparkling with green energy. She recognized that discharge. Looking around, she at once spotted a new presence in the doorways, flanked by a large solid form and a contrasting lithe form, all three garbed in black-and-gold.

Alchemist and the rest of the X-Men present had just barely entered the gymnasium and barely steadied themselves during Avalanche's tremors when he saw the falling panel. Alchemist signed a breath of relief. "It's a good thing I learned how to copy Magneto a few weeks ago," he gasped. "That was too close."

Tabitha didn't want to appear ungrateful, but she was more surprised to see them here. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving your sorry ass, that's what!" Alchemist snapped. "You're welcome!"

Tabitha couldn't blame Alchemist for being cross, but the sad look Nightcrawler had on his face was the worst part. Kurt must have found out what she was up to, and that look of betrayal was the worst thing she had ever dealt with.

She didn't have long to dwell on that fact, because Avalanche was livid at the interruption. "Looking to get hurt, Scarhead? Fine, let's play this rough!" He turned to Toad. "Grab the cash and get back to the hideout!"

Toad was still shaking off the headache he got from being blasted into the bleachers. "Ok, ok!" He said, and grabbed the heavy bag, hopping towards the exit.

"Not happening, Tolanski!" Alchemist exclaimed before making a peculiar motion with his sparkling hands.

The suspended panel Alchemist had caught using alchemic magnetism shot towards Toad like a jet. Toad had heard Alchemist's exclamation and turned, only to see the panel shoot right at him. Shrieking, he ducked and it soared over him. It wasn't even close to hitting him, but it slapped against the open doorway Toad was hopping towards, effectively blocking the exit.

Toad recovered and looked at his exit being blocked. "That ain't going to stop me, Scarhead!" He shot his sticky tongue towards the panel, sticking to it easily.

Alchemist smiled. "It wasn't intended to." He made a motion as if he beckoned the panel back to him.

The panel shot towards Toad, his tongue still attached. "Oh cra—" was all he could managed before he got smacked. He dropped the bag, but he was effectively slapped against the gymnasium wall. He slumped to the ground, stunned.

Colossus saw the bag fall, and raced towards it.

"Let's see you try!" Blob challenged as he rushed between Colossus and the bag.

Colossus frowned, but undeterred, he skidded to a halt and raised his fist. "Back away, comrade. I am not wishing to fight you."

"Oh, really?" Blob said. "Because _I_ am!" He charged himself.

Colossus braced himself as Blob smashed into him. Colossus slid back a few feet as Blob continued to push.

Avalanche saw an opportunity to knock Colossus off his feet, but before he could, Nightcrawler ported away and reappeared with the bag in hand. "I got the bag!" he exclaimed.

Avalanche diverted his attention to Nightcrawler, and summoned a tremor to knock Nightcrawler right off his feet. Nightcrawler didn't see it coming, but did feel the ground beneath his feet shoot upwards from the tremor and throw him off balance. The bag went flying and fell right near Mr. Smith. Not hesitating, he scooped it up and ran for the doors.

Nightcrawler had just barely recovered when he saw Mr. Smith run for a door that lead to the locker rooms. "He's getting away!" he exclaimed.

Alchemist was looking for an opening to help Colossus when he heard Nightcrawler. Turning, he saw Mr. Smith running for the doors that lead to the locker rooms. "I got him!" he declared, but not before being intercepted by Tabitha.

"No, Jason," Tabitha said. " _I_ got him."

Alchemist pursed his lips. "With all due respect—"

"With all due respect," Tabitha interrupted more forcefully. "He's _my_ responsibility, and I _have_ to do this."

Before Alchemist could say anything else, Tabitha ran off after her father. Alchemist almost made after her, but was interrupted by a smashing noise behind him. Turning, he saw Colossus had managed to throw Blob into the bleachers, smashing them. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Alchemist couldn't help but be impressed.

Blob recovered quickly though, his natural toughness proving to be a great asset. "No one puts me in a corner and _lives_!" He leaped upwards, making as if to smash Colossus through the floor.

"Peter! Jump back!"

Colossus was about to brace himself, but Alchemist's warning shot right into his impulses and he obeyed.

Alchemist had slapped his hand against the ground at the same time he warned Colossus, and the floor surged with alchemic energy, transmuting a gaping hole right where Colossus was standing. All Blob could do was scream in surprise as he shot into the hole like a giant basketball. The hole shut as fast as it opened, although not fast enough to muffle the crashing below.

Satisfied, Alchemist brushed his hands together. "Well, I wonder how many points _that_ will give me?" He turned to Avalanche. "Now, where were we?"

Avalanche glowered at Alchemist and Colossus, but even he knew that he was not going to win this fight. "Gloat all you want, Scarhead, but next time, you won't be so lucky!" He took off for the exit.

Alchemist watched him go, and noted that at some point, Toad seemed to have made an exit as well. "Well, now that they're taken care of, I'd better fix this room before security gets here. Shouldn't take long."

"What about Tabitha?" Colossus asked.

"They took the door to the locker rooms. There is an exit, but it goes to the roof."

"Wait, the roof?" Nightcrawler repeated, his yellow eyes widening.

Alchemist noted Nightcrawler's alarm, but wasn't sure why. "Yes…why?"

"Didn't they fix the roof damage from the hurricane up there yet?"

Now Alchemist blanched. "Oh, shit, you're right!"

XXXXXXXXXX

Mr. Smith was lost, but he kept on running. He was sure one of the mutie-freaks as he thought was after him, but wasn't going to turn to look. He nearly got trapped in the locker rooms, but found a stairwell that led upwards. He didn't know where it went, but if it was anywhere but back in the gymnasium, he didn't care.

Three flights of stairs later, he emerged on the rooftop of the school. Not even stopping, he took off over the roof, hoping to find a fire escape ladder or anything like it. He needed to be gone from here now, and he didn't care how.

Suddenly, his foot fell clean through the roof. The fall made him drop the bag and just out of reach. Swearing, he tried to lift himself towards the bag, but the cracks on the roof started to spread. More of the roof fell away, and he barely caught himself from falling through completely. Hoisting himself up partially, he reached for the bag. If he wasn't quick, he was about to fall a good forty feet.

"Daddy!" came a familiar voice.

He turned to see Tabitha behind him, looking scared.

"Tabs! Just keep those other assholes off me! I'll be ok!"

Tabitha got down on her hands and knees, and crept towards her imperiled father, all the while ignoring the creaking and cracking of wood underneath her. "Daddy, come on! Just give me your hand!"

Mr. Smith disregarded her pleading daughter, but was distracted by another round of cracking wood that sounded a lot louder than it should.

Tabitha knew she was running out of time. "Daddy, please! Forget the money! Take my hand, please!"

Mr. Smith had never heard Tabitha sound so distressed in all his life. Granted, he hadn't spent a lot of time with her daughter up until her powers emerged, but it actually made him pause. Tabitha was risking her life to save her father, despite their history. He turned to look at her daughter, her hand reaching out to him, and he could see a ring of tears in her eyes.

The cracking grew worse, and he knew that one move would finally cause the roof to collapse. He had to choose and choose now.

Hardening himself, he turned his back on his daughter and reached for the bag. He managed to get his hand on it, just as the roof fell in. Tabitha and Mr. Smith fell towards the ground, screaming as they did. Suddenly, a third figure teleported into the debris, grabbed Mr. Smith and Tabitha, and teleported away, allowing the debris to ball harmlessly.

Nightcrawler re-emerged from his token cloud of brimstone fumes with Tabitha and Mr. Smith in tow. "Whew, that was a close o—"

Mr. Smith took the bag of cash and plowed it into Nightcrawler's chest, and ran off.

"Dad, no!" Tabitha said, and ran after him.

The other two X-Men present had witnessed the whole thing. "Wait!" said Colossus and made as if to follow them, but Alchemist stopped him.

"Let them go, Peter."

Colossus turned to Alchemist. "They are escaping!"

"No, they aren't," Alchemist said, a resigned tone to his voice. He raised a hand to his ear. "Do you hear that?"

Colossus paused to listen, and then heard a very familiar sound gaining strength. "Is that—?"

"It's our cue to get out of here," Alchemist finished. "Nightcrawler, are you ok?"

Nightcrawler was picking himself up, slightly winded from the bag. "Uh, yeah, I think so." He looked around. "Where's Tabitha?"

"She ran off, but we need to leave, now."

"But—"

"Kurt," Alchemist said. "It's out of our hands now. We need to get back to the Institute."

Nightcrawler was about to protest, but then heard what Alchemist and Colossus were hearing. "Oh no…"

"Kurt," Alchemist said.

Nightcrawler looked back at Alchemist, warring between his gut and his brain. Finally, he relented. "I messed up, didn't I?"

Alchemist laid a hand on Nightcrawler's shoulder. "We did our best, but we can still help Tabitha if we move now. Let's go."

Nightcrawler nodded, and he took Alchemist and Colossus by the hand, and ported them away from the gymnasium.

XXXXXXXXXX

Tabitha was not sure what she could do to stop her father, but her father had just hurt her best friend at the Institute, and in the very least, he was going to pay for that. She was hot on his heels, but Mr. Smith hadn't spent a lot of time running from the law for nothing. He was quite good at sprinting, despite his age and being burdened by a heavy bag of loot.

Before either of them knew it, they emerged from the school the same way they came in. Instead of a calm, peaceful winter nightscape, they were assaulted by a barrage of red-and-blue flashing lights, as well as what felt like every spotlight in town.

"This is the police! Put your hands in the air!" came a voice over a loudspeaker.

Mr. Smith looked ready to pop, and looked rebellious. Tabitha looked at her father. "Dad, please! Don't make this worse!"

Mr. Smith scowled at her daughter, but he knew she was right. There was only one place to go now, and he knew it. Dropping the loot, he raised his hands into the air. Tabitha sighed, and did the same, knowing full well that she was likely going to get her own jail cell for this.

As the police approached, Tabitha heard her father say something that she wished she didn't hear.

"This is what I get for giving birth to a mutie through a bitch…"

Tabitha suppressed her tears as two officers separated them, read them their rights, cuffed them and placed them in separate vehicles. Tabitha didn't think she cared what her father thought, but the way she felt right now, she felt she deserved being treated this way for going along with this plan. All she could do was hope that her real family could forgive her, even if it meant her doing something that might hurt them already.

XXXXXXXXXX

 _A few hours later…_

Tabitha stepped out of the police station, unsure of what to feel. The police chose not to pursue charges against her, but she felt that the Professor had something to do with that. She wasn't sure if she should feel thankful or ashamed. Looking up, she looked to see the Professor sitting in his wheelchair, flanked by his limousine as well as Jason, who had since swapped out his X-Men uniform for street clothes. She half-expected them to look sour at them, but the look of disappointment on their faces felt worse.

Tabitha walked towards them, unsure of what to say. Looking down at the ground, it was all she could do was to say, "So…what's going to happen to my Dad?"

The Professor wove his hands together. "They've detained him for now, and will likely remain that way until a parole hearing." The Professor sighed. "With his priors, as well as violating both his parole and a restraining order to stay away from you, it's very likely that he will return to prison to serve the remainder of his sentence. As for you, the police determined that you were an unwilling participant in his crimes this time since they believe you were coerced into acting, so they've elected to not pursue charges this time."

Jason crossed his arms. "It's quite fortunate, actually. I'm just sorry that this had to happen, Tabby."

"Yeah, me too…" Tabitha sighed. "Where's Blue?"

"He's back at the Institute," the Professor said. "We still need to decide how to address his disobedience, as well as yours."

"Yeah, about that," Tabitha said. "I'll be by soon and get my things."

Jason looked shocked. "What? You're leaving?"

"Yeah, I should," Tabitha said. "You've all been so amazing to me, and I've been absolutely terrible to you. Don't think I don't know what people are saying, Jase. I _do_ have ears…"

Jason looked properly admonished, since he was the source of many disgruntled talks about Tabitha.

Tabitha looked down. "But you were right though. I'm…I'm just not a good fit right now. Maybe later once I figure out some things, but right now?" Tabitha sighed. "It's better if I go it alone for now."

The Professor sighed himself. "I won't force you to do anything, Tabitha, but know that you will always have a home with us."

"Thank you, Prof."

Jason looked up. "Come on, Tabs, you don't have to do this!"

"Yes, Jase, I do," Tabitha said. "Before I can ask you to trust me to be there for you, I need to do the same for myself, and right now, I can't. Once I get my head right, I'll be back. Just two things before I go: try to loosen up a have a little fun once in a while, Jase, and take a risk once in a while."

Jason looked like he was going to cry himself. "Tabitha…"

"Two…tell Wonder Boy…" Tabitha paused to try to keep herself from crying herself. "Tell Wonder Boy that he's amazing and that I'm sorry for what I did to him, and one day I hope he'll have it in his heart to forgive me." She turned to leave. "I'll see you around, ok?"

Jason sighed. "Yeah, I will…"

Tabitha weakly smiled, and then turned to leave. Jason and the Professor watched her disappear into the night. The Professor turned to Jason. "Are you all right, Jason?"

Jason sighed. "No. Why do I feel like this was partly my fault?"

The Professor sighed. "You shouldn't because it isn't."

"But she was right about me! I did voice my concerns to a couple others that I felt that her time was going to get cut short. Either she overheard, or someone else told her. Either way, I said something I shouldn't have, and it may have played a role here."

The Professor sighed. "Remember back during the days before the hurricane, our conversation within the Danger Room?"

Jason nodded, despite it not being a comfortable memory.

"Just as we should stand by our choices, we also must take responsibility for them, however they affect those around us. Perhaps you are right that what you said about Tabitha may have played a role in her voluntary withdrawal from us, but at the same, Tabitha is also responsible for her decision. Her actions are her own, as are yours."

Jason sighed, not feeling consoled at all. "Maybe, but I don't feel any better about this."

"We've experienced a loss, it is true, but there's no wisdom to be found in regretting the past; only in learning from it."

Jason nodded. "I guess we're already learning something, right?"

"You've said as much after the unfortunate events in the cave."

Jason winced at the memory.

"Yet those words have never lost their truth."

Jason nodded again, digesting everything he was told. He looked after where Tabitha had disappeared. "You think she'll come back?"

"I won't pretend to know the future, Jason," the Professor said. "But the best we can do is make sure the door is open to her once she does."

"Yeah," Jason sighed. "That really is all we can do."

"Take heart, Jason. The lessons she's learned by being in our company aren't so lightly tossed aside." The Professor folded his hands. "For now, we should return to the Institute. There is more business to discuss tonight."

XXXXXXXXXX

 _Former Bayville Boarding House_

"Hey!" Todd exclaimed. "What's up with the water, yo?" He had just tried in vain to get water from a faucet in the filthy kitchen.

"City likely shut it off," Lance said, taking a swig from a water bottle. "Makes me thirsty just thinking about it."

"Man, this bombs," Todd said. "Why did the X-Men have to mess up everything? We gotta do what we gotta do!"

"Yeah!" Fred said. "How the heck am I going to find enough to eat without any cash?"

"What am I supposed to do about it?!" Lance said. "Do I look like I have a mountain of cash tucked away somewhere?"

"Geez," Pietro said, flashing into the kitchen. "I leave this place for a couple days and it's already gone _more_ down the tube!"

"Maybe if you were there," Fred said. "We'd have money!"

"That's not my fault, Blob!" Pietro said. "Maybe if you guys weren't so pitiful to get your asses kicked by the _newbie_ X-Men…"

The four went into a full-scale argument that went on for a couple minutes, until they all heard a knock on the door.

"Who could that be?" Pietro said.

"Maybe someone ordered us a pizza!" Todd said.

"Keep dreaming, Toad," Lance said, getting up to answer a door.

"Aww, I would love a pizza right now," Fred sighed.

"Just one?" Pietro quipped.

"Shut up, guys!" Lance said, as he reached the door. "This better not be some stupid prank or I'm gonna—" The words died on his lips as he opened the door, and saw who was on the other side.

"Hey, guys!" Tabitha said, and saw the water bottle in Lance's hands. "Ooh! I'm dying of thirst." She took the water bottle right out of his dumbfounded hands. "Listen, I need a place to crash. Got a room?"

Lance blinked. "Uh…"

"Cool, thanks, Shaker!" She stepped right around the confused Lance and looked around. "Yeah, not the greatest place, but hey, I've had worse."

Toad, Fred and Pietro had entered the living room, and saw Tabitha walking towards the stairwell, each with their own dumbfounded looks.

Tabitha walked up to Fred. "Hey, big guy. The room upstairs?"

"Uh…" Fred started.

"Awesome, you guys rock. I have no idea why the X-nerds don't think so." Tabitha walked up the stairs.

The four Brotherhood boys looked after her, still trying to figure out what is going on.

"What's she doing here?" Todd asked. "No chicks allowed in the Brotherhood House, don't she know that?"

"Then go stop her!" Pietro hissed.

Todd gulped. "Uh, why don't you?"

"Hey!" came Tabitha's voice. "This one is locked! Well, there's only one thing to do…"

"Oh no…" voiced Lance.

A sharp bang that knocked some of the dust and dirt from the ceiling almost shook the house. Once it faded, Todd hopped up the stairs, followed by the others. They looked to see that Tabitha had blown open the locked door Todd had repeatedly failed to break down, and could only stare.

Inside the room was a stark contrast to the dilapidated condition of the rest of the house. While it was still a little dusty from lack of attention, it was tidy, furnished, and even a little extravagant with a full-sized bed, drapes and silken blankets.

Tabitha sized the whole thing up with a dismissive eye. "Hmm, yeah, I guess I can work with this." She placed her backpack on the bed, and turned to see that the Brotherhood boys were practically staring agape into the room. "Need something, boys?"

"Uh…" came the chorused confusion from the boys.

"Good," Tabitha walked towards them. "Now stay out of my room." She shut the door on their faces.

XXXXXXXXXX

Back at the Institute, Kurt was sitting on the bed in his room, feeling particularly blue. He broke curfew, almost was complicit in grand larceny, got a bigger punishment than ever, and even lost a friend. Of all those things to happen tonight, hearing that Tabitha had chosen to leave the Institute was the one that hurt the most. Kurt really liked her perky and fun personality, despite her rambunctiousness and dismissiveness. It was something he secretly envied, since it was a luxury he denied himself for being blue and furry. Hanging around Tabitha made him feel human again, despite the rest of the students making him feel welcome. From Tabitha, there was no judgment, reservation, or hesitation. She genuinely found him cool. Now that voice was gone from his life, and he felt alone all over again.

A knock on the door interrupted his depressed thoughts. Normally, he would teleport to the other side of the door, both seeing who it was and startling whoever was there. Tonight, his heart wasn't in it. He simply answered. "Who is it?"

"It's me," came a voice. "Jason. Can I come in?"

Kurt wasn't sure how he felt being visited by someone on the exact opposite of the spectrum Tabitha could be placed on, but Jason did step up and help Kurt out of a fix. He at least owed Jason for that. "It's unlocked…"

The door opened, and Jason looked in. "Hey, Kurt."

"Hey."

Jason walked in towards Kurt. "Mind if I sit down?" He motioned to the space on the bed beside Kurt.

"Go ahead."

Jason sat down, and Kurt could feel his energy enough to know that he was a little uncomfortable. Kurt knew that it wasn't because of how he looked, but it still saddened him that Jason still wasn't the most natural around him for whatever reason.

"So…" Jason started. "…what's the damage?"

Kurt's response was automatic. "I have to wash all our uniforms, wax both of the jets, and clean out the Danger Room every day for a month."

Jason pursed his lips, trying to be encouraging. "Well, it could have been worse, I guess…"

" _After_ Logan's sessions, Jason…" Kurt added.

Jason winced. "Ok, ouch. Yeah, that sucks."

"Yeah."

Jason sighed, and looked at Kurt. "Yet that doesn't seem to be what's really bugging you…"

Kurt looked down, and sighed himself. "Yeah, it's not. I just don't understand why Tabitha decided to leave."

Jason gulped a bit. "She said that this wasn't a good fit for her…and that she felt that the rest of us weren't feeling it either."

"Maybe _you_ thought that," Kurt said, remember their lunch argument from earlier in the week. "But I didn't."

Jason nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I certainly had a chip on my shoulder for a while, didn't I?"

Kurt only sighed. He didn't mean to be as harsh as he sounded, but it was still a little sensitive for him to talk about it.

"All I can say is that I'm sorry for saying what I said, and I take responsibility for it." Jason dared to look at Kurt, who had looked away him. "I may have said that I wasn't sure if she belonged here, but I certainly didn't want her to leave. I actually tried to convince her to stay…"

"That turned out well," Kurt said.

Jason knew that Kurt had every reason to be a little spiteful to him, and so tolerated it. "And she did say that once she's ready, she will come back to us."

Kurt sighed. "Yeah, I know. I really am not mad at you, Jason. I'm just…well…"

"She was your friend, probably your best friend," Jason finished.

Kurt gulped, and nodded.

Jason's heart ached for Kurt. This was a kind of pain no man should have to endure. "I can't fathom the kind of pain you're in, Kurt, and I'm sorry we're not closer as friends for me to try. I probably don't deserve to be after this, but just know that if you ever want to talk, I'm at least a good listener."

Kurt's face softened a little, and he looked at Jason. " _Danke schon, mein freund_."

Jason offered a hand. Kurt looked at it briefly, and took it in his own tridactyl hand.

Kurt looked out the window. "Do you think she'll really come back?"

"The Professor seems to think so," Jason said, following his gaze. "And I think so too. It might even be sooner than we think. Perhaps once she sees how life outside these walls is, she'll be back."

Kurt looked at Jason. "Maybe, but I have a feeling she already knows how it's like out there."

Jason had to concede that observation. "Yeah, maybe you're right, but there's one thing that she has here that she doesn't out there."

"What's that?"

"You as a friend."

Kurt's eyes widened just a little.

"She thinks you're the coolest person here, Kurt. She told me herself before she left."

Kurt wasn't sure if that was true, but Jason had no reason to lie beyond making him feel better. "What else did she say?"

Jason looked away. "Well, she told me I could stand to loosen up a bit."

Kurt had to laugh. "Well, she's got one thing right."

"Laugh it up, fuzzball."

"She really thought I was the coolest?"

Jason nodded. "She did."

Kurt smiled. "Thank you, Jason."

"Anytime, fuzzy."

"You really could loosen up a bit though."

"I know, I know…I'll work on that."

Jason and Kurt continued to talk for some time afterwards, unsure what the future had for Tabitha, but each took heart that Tabitha would soon be back and hopefully doesn't change too much. For now, though, all they could do was wait.

XXXXXXXXXX

 _I guess nothing I could say could make up for the wait this time, only to say I'm sorry. School, marriage and job hunting is a real bear sometimes, and while I don't regret anything, I do regret not staying on top of this. It's not fair to you all. All I can say is thank you for sticking around, and I hope to keep going as we still have a long ways to go! Speaking of, here's the next chapter hint!_

 _When Juggernaut's unit begins the fail, the Professor entrusts the Institute in the hands of the senior X-Men. For a while, everything is great, until an unwelcome guest infiltrates the Institute. A relaxing night turns into a living nightmare as the X-Men must survive their infiltrator, and this infiltrator seems intent to kill. Can they do what they must? Find out more in **Chapter 4: Survival**. _


End file.
